#1933 #IrishWriters #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
NOW as at all times I can see in… In their stiff, painted clothes, t… Appear and disappear in the blue d… With all their ancient faces like… And all their helms of silver hove…
I WOULD that we were, my belove… We tire of the flame of the meteor… And the flame of the blue star of… Has awakened in our hearts, my bel… A weariness comes from those dream…
Half close your eyelids, loosen yo… And dream about the great and thei… They have spoken against you every… But weigh this song with the great… I made it out of a mouthful of air…
THIS night has been so strange t… As if the hair stood up on my head… From going-down of the sun I have… That women laughing, or timid or w… In rustle of lace or silken stuff,
Once more the storm is howling, an… Under this cradle—hood and coverli… My child sleeps on. There is no… But Gregory’s wood and one bare h… Whereby the haystack—and roof—leve…
IF Michael, leader of God’s host When Heaven and Hell are met, Looked down on you from Heaven’s… He would his deeds forget. Brooding no more upon God’s wars
SHE is foremost of those that I… I have gone about the house, gone… As a man does who has published a… Or a young girl dressed out in her… And though I have turned the talk…
THE old brown thorn-trees break i… Under a bitter black wind that blo… Our courage breaks like an old tre… But we have hidden in our hearts t… Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houl…
ONE that is ever kind said yester… ‘Your well-beloved’s hair has thre… And little shadows come about her… Time can but make it easier to be… Though now it seems impossible, an…
Some may have blamed you that you… The verses that could move them on… When, the ears being deafened, the… With lightning, you went from me,… Nothing to make a song about but k…
Fled foam underneath us, and round… High as the Saddle-girth, coverin… And those that fled, and that foll… The immortal desire of Immortals… I mused on the chase with the Fen…
A MOST astonishing thing— Seventy years have I lived; (Hurrah for the flowers of Spring… For Spring is here again.) Seventy years have I lived
O but there is wisdom In what the sages said; But stretch that body for a while And lay down that head Till I have told the sages
While I, that reed-throated whisp… Who comes at need, although not no… A clear articulation in the air, But inwardly, surmise companions Beyond the fling of the dull ass’s…
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cl… Enwrought with golden and silver l… The blue and the dim and the dark… Of night and light and the half—li… I would spread the cloths under yo…