#IrishWriters #Victorian
The lily’s withered chalice falls Around its rod of dusty gold, And from the beech—trees on the wo… The last wood—pigeon coos and call… The gaudy leonine sunflower
I STOOD by the unvintageable se… Till the wet waves drenched face a… The long red fires of the dying da… Burned in the west; the wind piped… And to the land the clamorous gull…
I am weary of lying within the cha… When the knights are meeting in ma… Nay, go not thou to the red—roofed… Lest the hoofs of the war—horse tr… But I would not go where the Squi…
The little white clouds are racing… And the fields are strewn with the… The daffodil breaks under foot, an… Sways and swings as the thrush goe… A delicate odour is borne on the w…
THE sea was sapphire coloured, an… Burned like a heated opal through… We hoisted sail; the wind was blow… For the blue lands that to the eas… From the steep prow I marked with…
WAS this His coming! I had hoped… A scene of wondrous glory, as was… Of some great God who in a rain o… Broke open bars and fell on Danae… Or a dread vision as when Semele
The sky is laced with fitful red, The circling mists and shadows fle… The dawn is rising from the sea, Like a white lady from her bed. And jagged brazen arrows fall
Tread lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow. All her bright golden hair
A RING of gold and a milk—white… Are goodly gifts for thee, And a hempen rope for your own lov… To hang upon a tree. For you a House of Ivory
RID of the world’s injustice, and… He rests at last beneath God’s ve… Taken from life when life and love… The youngest of the martyrs here i… Fair as Sebastian, and as early s…
To stab my youth with desperate kn… This paltry age’s gaudy livery, To let each base hand filch my tre… To mesh my soul within a woman’s h… And be mere Fortune’s lackeyed gr…
In the glad springtime when leaves… O merrily the throstle sings! I sought, amid the tangled sheen, Love whom mine eyes had never seen… O the glad dove has golden wings!
THERE was a time in Europe long… When no man died for freedom anywh… But England’s lion leaping from i… Laid hands on the oppressor! it wa… While England could a great Repub…
O beautiful star with the crimson… O moon with the brows of gold! Rise up, rise up, from the odorous… And light for my love her way, Lest her little feet should stray
Christ, dost Thou live indeed? or… Still straitened in their rock—hew… And was Thy Rising only dreamed b… Whose love of Thee for all her si… For here the air is horrid with me…