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Posts published in “Poems”

Slim adolescence that a nymph has stripped,

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IIISlim adolescence that a nymph has stripped,Peleus on Thetis stares.Her limbs are delicate as an eyelid,Love has blinded him with tears;But Thetis’ belly listens.Down the mountain wallsFrom where pan’s cavern…

In Memory Of Eva Gore-Booth And Con Markiewicz

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The light of evening, Lissadell,Great windows open to the south,Two girls in silk kimonos, bothBeautiful, one a gazelle.But a raving autumn shearsBlossom from the summer’s wreath;The older is condemned to…

Into The Twilight

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OUT-WORN heart, in a time out-worn,Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight,Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.Your mother Eire…

Maid Quiet

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WHERE has Maid Quiet gone to,Nodding her russet hood?The winds that awakened the starsAre blowing through my blood.O how could I be so calmWhen she rose up to depart?Now words…

The White Birds

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I WOULD that we were, my beloved, white birds on thefoam of the sea!We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fadeand flee;And the flame of the…

Crazy Jane Talks With The Bishop

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I met the Bishop on the roadAnd much said he and I.‘Those breasts are flat and fallen now,Those veins must soon be dry;Live in a heavenly mansion,Not in some foul…

The Lover Tells Of The Rose In His Heart

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ALL things uncomely and broken, all things worn outand old,The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lum-bering cart,The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing thewintry…

Mad As The Mist And Snow

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Bolt and bar the shutter,For the foul winds blow:Our minds are at their best this night,And I seem to knowThat everything outside us isMad as the mist and snow. Horace…

The Lamentation Of The Old Pensioner

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ALTHOUGH I shelter from the rainUnder a broken tree,My chair was nearest to the fireIn every companyThat talked of love or politics,Ere Time transfigured me.Though lads are making pikes againFor…

Three Things

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‘O cruel Death, give three things back,’Sang a bone upon the shore;‘A child found all a child can lack,Whether of pleasure or of rest,Upon the abundance of my breast’:A bone…