#IrishWriters
What counsel has the hooded moon Put in thy heart, my shyly sweet, Of Love in ancient plenilune, Glory and stars beneath his feet —… A sage that is but kith and kin
Martin Cunningham, first, poked his silkhatted head into the creaking carriage and, entering deftly, seated himself. Mr Power stepped in after him, curving his height with care. Mr Deda...
Dear heart, why will you use me so… Dear eyes that gently me upbraid, Still are you beautiful – but O, How is your beauty raimented! Through the clear mirror of your e…
This heart that flutters near my h… My hope and all my riches is, Unhappy when we draw apart And happy between kiss and kiss: My hope and all my riches ——yes! —…
The summer evening had begun to fold the world in its mysterious embrace. Far away in the west the sun was setting and the last glow of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and...
Though I thy Mithridates were, Framed to defy the poison—dart, Yet must thou fold me unaware To know the rapture of thy heart, And I but render and confess
The twilight turns from amethyst To deep and deeper blue, The lamp fills with a pale green g… The trees of the avenue. The old piano plays an air,
Now, O now, in this brown land Where Love did so sweet music mak… We two shall wander, hand in hand, Forbearing for old friendship’ sak… Nor grieve because our love was ga…
Because your voice was at my side I gave him pain, Because within my hand I held Your hand again. There is no word nor any sign
Thou leanest to the shell of night… Dear lady, a divining ear. In that soft choiring of delight What sound hath made thy heart to… Seemed it of rivers rushing forth
Sleep Now, O Sleep Now Sleep now, O sleep now, O you unquiet heart! A voice crying “Sleep now” Is heard in my heart.
The Mabbot Street entrance of nighttown, before which stretches an uncobbled tramsiding set with skeleton tracks, red and green will-o’-the-wisps and danger signals. rows of grimy house...
Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind h...
The eyes that mock me sign the way Whereto I pass at eve of day. Grey way whose violet signals are The trysting and the twining star. Ah star of evil! star of pain!
I heard their young hearts crying Loveward above the glancing oar And heard the prairie grasses sigh… No more, return no more! O hearts, O sighing grasses,