Golden-throated, hath God sent th… Sweet, sweet! singing, singing all… I said Ah, the young Spring she w… And he’ll seek the sunny distance… For all the other birds have left…

This is the rhyme of the rain on t… Tears, all tears, slow falling tea… If this is the warp, then what is… Flesh that sorrows and flesh that… Ah! poor humanity, weeping sore,

Bring to me white roses, roses, pi… Sweet stock and gillyflowers, popp… Bee-flowers and mignonette, with b… I would make a coverlet for my nar… Bring me no silken cloth, velvet s…

The wise thrush, the wise thrush,… Made her nest in the laurel’s leaf… But the foolish young girl, all la… She built on a reed that all winds… She built on a reed that swung and…

Here, in the silent churchyard, 'm… Weary I sit for a moment clasping… Weary of worldly passions of selfi… Grant me the shade of thy wings,… Weary of smiling faces when the he…

They say it is the wind in midnigh… Loud shrieking past the window, th… Each casement shudder with its sto… And the barred door with pushing s… Ah, no! ah, no! It is the souls p…

There are six sorrows in my heart’… Red Allen, Clare, and Joan, Sweet Bet, and Jock, and little… Six sorrows all my own. Red Allen was my first-born son,

What we must do and may not do. This is the World’s whole refrain… Till beating on the wearied brain, We wonder what is true. My love! my love! who passes by,

Brian O’Byrne of Omah town In his garden strode up and down; He pulled his beard, and he beat h… And this is his trouble and woe co… ‘The good-folk came in the night,…

My darling laughed in the dawning, And the birds perched low to hear. The quick sprung anew from dead as… That Spring’s passing feet had fl… Oh, Life came over the meadows,

Beside my window sighs the last lo… Saying, ‘Alas! farewell! Youth’s… Like some sweet spirit waiting for… Her perfume hovers round her droop… There sings a bird the yellow leav…

Who has room for a friend Who has money to spend, And a goblet of gold For your fingers to hold, At the wave of whose hand

I am the song, that rests upon the… I am the sun I am the dawn, the day, the hiding… When dusk is done. I am the changing colours of the t…

In the grey and dusty morn, Dreaming Jane arose, And from silent room to room With her duster goes. Slipping 'neath her sleepy hand