#1933 #IrishWriters #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
Overcome—O bitter sweetness, Inhabitant of the soft cheek of a… The rich man and his affairs, The fat flocks and the fields’ fat… Mariners, rough harvesters;
PICTURE and book remain, An acre of green grass For air and exercise, Now strength of body goes; Midnight, an old house
Once, when midnight smote the air, Eunuchs ran through Hell and met On every crowded street to stare Upon great Juan riding by: Even like these to rail and sweat
Shy one, shy one, Shy one of my heart, She moves in the firelight Pensively apart. She carries in the dishes,
Bring me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head Because of my dear Jack that’s de…
BECAUSE there is safety in deri… I talked about an apparition, I took no trouble to convince, Or seem plausible to a man of sens… Distrustful of thar popular eye
Endure what life God gives and as… Cease to remember the delights of… Delight becomes death-longing if a… Even from that delight memory trea… Death, despair, division of famili…
KNOW, that I would accounted be True brother of a company That sang, to sweeten Ireland’s w… Ballad and story, rann and song; Nor be I any less of them,
‘CALL down the hawk from the air… Let him be hooded or caged Till the yellow eye has grown mild… For larder and spit are bare, The old cook enraged,
Scene: A house made of logs. There are two windows at the back and a door which cuts off one of the corners of the room. Through the door one can see low rocks which make the ground out...
THE Colonel went out sailing, He spoke with Turk and Jew, With Christian and with Infidel, For all tongues he knew. 'O what’s a wifeless man?' said he…
FOR certain minutes at the least That crafty demon and that loud be… That plague me day and night Ran out of my sight; Though I had long perned in the g…
The jester walked in the garden: The garden had fallen still; He bade his soul rise upward And stand on her window—sill. It rose in a straight blue garment…
The light of evening, Lissadell, Great windows open to the south, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle. But a raving autumn shears
A BLOODY and a sudden end, Gunshot or a noose, For Death who takes what man woul… Leaves what man would lose. He might have had my sister,