O would, beloved, that you lay Under the dock-leaves in the ground, While lights were paling one by one.
Never shall a young man, Thrown into despair By those great honey-coloured Ramparts at your ear, Love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair.
When I play on my fiddle in Dooney Folk dance like a wave on the sea.
I--love's skein upon the ground, My body in the tomb-- Shall leap into the light lost In my mother's womb.
May we two stand, When we are dead, beyond the setting suns, A little from other shades apart, With mingling hair, and play upon one lute.
... Let the cage bird and the cage bird mate and the wild bird mate in the wild.
Irish poets, learn your trade, sing whatever is well made, scorn the sort now growing up all out of shape from toe to top.
When we are high and airy hundreds say That if we hold that flight they'll leave the place, While those same hundreds mock another day Because we have made our art of common things.
All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, The heavy steps of the plowman, splashing the wintry mold, Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.
And if joy were not on the earth, There were an end of change and birth, And Earth and Heaven and Hell would die, And in some gloomy barrow lie Folded like a frozen fly.
The Danaan children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold, And clap their hands together, and half close their eyes, For they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies, With heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold.
I say that Roger Casement Did what he had to do, He died upon the gallows But that is nothing new.
Now must we sing and sing the best we can, But first you must be told your character: Convicted cowards all, by kindred slain.
If a poet interprets a poem of his own he limits its suggestibility.
Some burn damp faggots, others may consume The entire combustible world in one small room.
Longfellow has his popularity, in the main, because he tells his story or his idea so that one needs nothing but his verses to understand it.
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