A Book of Irish VerseWilliam Butler Yeats Methuen, 1911 - 257 pages |
Common terms and phrases
Aghadoe banks of Erne bard Barretts bird brave breast breath bright clan cold cuisle geal mo Dark Rosaleen dead dear death Demy Douglas Hyde dream Emily Brontë Erin's eyes fair fairy Fcap Gael geal mo chroidhe Glen of Aherlow gone grave green grief hath hear heart heaven hill holy Hurroo Irish James Clarence Mangan Kathleen O'More land light Lionel Johnson little Kathleen live lonely Lynott maiden Maire bhan astór Mairgréad ni Chealleadh Mary Mo craoibhin cno mountain mournful never night night is falling o'er poets prayer rose round Says the shan Second Edition shan van vocht sigh Sir Samuel Ferguson sleep Soggarth aroon song soul sweet T. W. Rolleston tears thee There's Thomas D'Arcy McGee Thomas Davis thou Three Cows Twas wail weeping Welshmen of Tirawley wild William Allingham winding banks Woman of Three Young Ireland
Popular passages
Page 1 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs — and God has given my share — I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose...
Page 2 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
Page 129 - COLD in the earth — and the deep snow piled above thee, Far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave ! Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee, Severed at last by Time's all-severing wave...
Page 14 - I could kneel all night in prayer To heal your many ills ! And one . . . beamy smile from you Would float like light between My toils and me, my own, my true, My Dark Rosaleen ! My fond Rosaleen ! Would give me life and soul anew, A second life, a soul anew, My Dark Rosaleen...
Page 143 - Up the airy mountain Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting, For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather!
Page 11 - AT the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye ; And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air, To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there, And tell me our love is...
Page 144 - For fear of little men ; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together \ Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather ! Down along the rocky shore Some make their home, They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam ; Some in the reeds Of the black mountain lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs All night awake.
Page 144 - He's nigh lost his wits. With a bridge of white mist Columbkill he crosses, On his stately journeys From Slieveleague to Rosses; Or going up with music On cold starry nights, To sup with the Queen Of the gay Northern Lights.
Page 59 - s nothing left to care for now, Since my poor Mary died. Yours was the good, brave heart, Mary, That still kept hoping on, When the trust in God had left my soul, And my arm's young strength was gone ; There was comfort ever on your lip, And the kind look on your brow — I bless you, Mary, for that same, Though you cannot hear me now. I thank you for the patient smile When your heart was fit to break, When the hunger-pain was gnawin...
Page 2 - Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power, By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour ; Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize, More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.