WRITTEN TO THE LONDON… ‘Tira autumn sun your shadow’s flu… Upon the field where now your reap… Lo, there! And lo! Your reaper’s… Is on your forehead like a kingly…

O, to have a little house! To own the hearth and stool and al… The heaped up sods against the fir… The pile of turf against the wall! To have a clock with weights and c…

I HEARD in the night the pigeon… Stirring within their nest: The wild pigeons’ stir was tender, Like a child’s hand at the breast. I cried 'O stir no more!

I THINK some saint of Eirinn wa… Found you and brought you here De… For so I greet you in this alien… And like those maidens who were on… In their own land as daughters of…

OVER old walls the Laburnums hang cones of fire; Laburnums that grow out of old mould in old gardens: Old maids and old men who have sav…

HERE you should lie, ye Kings of… Barbarossa, Boabdil, And Czar Lazar and Charlemagne, Arthur, Gaelic Finn– Here where the

WITH sapphire for her crown, And with the Libyan wine For lustre of her eyes; With azure on her feet As though she trod the skies;

AND that was when the chevaldour Through the whole of night Sang, for the moon of mid-July Made the hillside bright. Morfydd to David ap Gwillam spoke

ONCE I loved a maiden fair, Over the hills and jar away, Lands she had and lovers to spare, Over the hills and far away. And I was stooped and troubled so…

‘Lost,’ ‘lost,’ the beeves and the… The cattle men sell and buy, Crowded upon the fair green, Low to the lightless sky. ‘Live,’ ‘live,’ and ‘Here,’ ‘here…

THEN, suddenly, I was aware inde… Of what he said, and was revolving… How, in the night, crows often tak… Rising from off the tree-tops in… And flying on: I pictured what he…

As I went down through Dublin cit… At the hour of twelve of the night… Who did I see but a Spanish lady Washing her feet by candle light. First she washed them,

You would not slumber If laid at my breast: You would not slumber. The river-flood beats The swan from her nest:

SHALL I go bound and you go fre… And love one so removed from me? Not so; the falcon o’er my brow Hath better quest, I dare avow! And must I run where you will rid…