#IrishWriters
THOSE we love truly never die, Though year by year the sad memori… A ring and flowers, types of life… Are laid upon their graves. For death the pure life saves,
A SOFT-BREASTED bird from th… Fell in love with the light-house… And it wheeled round the tower on… And floated and cried like a lovel… It brooded all day and it fluttere…
I’D rather live in Bohemia than i… For only there are the values true… And the laurels gathered in all me… The prizes of traffic and state ar… By shrewdness or force or by deeds…
IN the old days, while yet the Ch… And men believed that praise of G… In curbing self as well as singing… There lived a monk, Macarius by n… A holy man, to whom the faithful c…
YE white-maned waves of the Weste… That ride and roll to the strand, Ye strong-winged birds, never forc… By the gales that sweep toward lan… Ye are symbols of death, and of ho…
JOYS have three stages, Hoping,… The hands of Hope are empty, and… For the joy we take, in the taking… Now, which is the better—the joy u…
God send us peace, and keep red st… But should it come, God send us m… The land is dead that dare not fac… When foreign danger threats the co… Defenders strong are they that hom…
The Infinite always is silent: It is only the Finite speaks. Our words are the idle wave-caps On the deep that never breaks. We may question with wand of scien…
DIXON, a Choctaw, twenty years… Had killed a miner in a Leadville… Tried and condemned, the rough-bea… And watch him stride in freedom fr… ‘Return on Friday, to be shot to…
THUNDER our thanks to her—guns,… Cheer from the ranks to her, Shout from the banks to her— Mayflower! Foremost and best of o… Mayflower! Twice in the national…
SOLDIER, why do you shrink from… The bullet that whizzed is past; t… Stand straight! you cannot shrink… A comrade in front may hear it whi…
I MAY not speak in words, dear,… To tell their crimson secret in le… They plead for smiles and kisses a… And every purple veinlet thrills w… O, let me see the glance, dear, th…
A GOD-LIKE face, with human lo… And tender fancy traced in every l… A god-like face, but oh, how human… Dear Keats, who love the gods the…
Do you love me?' she said, when th… And we walked where the stream thr… And I told and retold her my love… While she listened and smiled, and… Do you love me?' she whispered, wh…
THE kindly words that rise within… And thrill it with their sympathet… But die ere spoken, fail to play t… And claim a merit that is not thei… The kindly word unspoken is a sin,…