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Beyond the barley meads and hay,
What was the light that beckoned there?
That made her sweet lips smile and say
'Oh, busk me in a gown of May,
And knot red poppies in my hair.'
...

And I grew up in patterned tranquility,
In the cool nursery of the young century.
And the voice of man was not dear to me,
But the voice of the wind I could understand.
But best of all the silver willow....

So in the shadow by the nimble flood
He made her whistles of the willow wood,
Flutes of one note with mellow slender tone;
(A robin piping in the dusk alone).
Lively the pleasure was the wand to bruise,...

HE.
Prithee, pretty maiden prithee, tell me true
(Hey, but I'm doleful, willow, willow waly!)
Have you e'er a lover a-dangling after you?
Hey, willow waly O!
I fain would discover...

I.

Deep in the wood of willow-trees
The summer sounds and whispering breeze
Bound me as if with glimmering arms
And spells of witchcraft, sorceries,
That filled the wood with phantom forms,...

To Coroner Merival, greetings, but a voice
Dissentient from much that goes the rounds,
Concerning Elenor Murray. Here's my word:
Give men and women freedom, save the land...

O plump head-waiter at The Cock,
To which I most resort,
How goes the time? 'Tis five o'clock.
Go fetch a pint of port:
But let it not be such as that
You set before chance-comers,...

BEING AN EXCELLENT NEW SONG, SUPPOSED TO BE MADE, AND SUNG IN THE STREETS OF DUBLIN, BY WILLIAM WOOD, IRONMONGER AND HALFPENNY-MONGER. 1725


My dear Irish folks,
Come leave off your jokes,...

Willy said to his sister,
"Please may I go with you?"
She said, "You must behave
Very nicely if you do."

"Please will you take me then
To look at the mill?"
"Yes," she said, "because you are...

In the parlour of the shanty where the lives have all gone wrong,
When a singer or reciter gives a story or a song,
Where the poet's heart is speaking to their hearts in every line,...

In years to come, will you forget,
Dear girl, how often we have met?
And I have gazed into your eyes
And there beheld no sad regret
To cloud the gladness of their skies,...

The lowliest born of all the land,
He wrung from Fate's reluctant hand
The gifts which happier boyhood claims;
And, tasting on a thankless soil
The bitter bread of unpaid toil,...

Wilt pray for me?
They tell me I have Fame;
I plead with thee,
Sometimes just fold my name
In beautiful "Hail Marys"!
And you give me more
Than all the world besides....

Air - "The Sutor's Dochter."




I.

Wilt thou be my dearie?
When sorrow wrings thy gentle heart,
Wilt thou let me cheer thee?
By the treasure of my soul,...

O harass not a driven leaf,
Nor stubble dry in wrath pursue;
A life so brief load not with grief,
Nor with thine arrow pierce me through.

The fragile leaf, by tempest tost,...

You can't go back,
to Love, a home.
memories of Pearl Bailey
even a scatterbrained job
curled like a Morning Glory
about the ribs of day.

Everyone repeats not going back.
...

Oh! weird West Wind, that comest from the sea,
Sad with the murmur of the weary waves,
Wand'ring for ever through old ocean caves,
Why troublest thou the hearts that list to thee,...

The rain came down on Boston Town,
And the people said, "Oh, dear!
It's early yet for our annual wet, -
'Twas dry this time last year."

In heavy suits and rubber boots...

Lovers, forget your love,
And list to the love of these,
She a window flower,
And he a winter breeze.
When the frosty window veil
Was melted down at noon,
And the caged yellow bird...

From The Young Astronomer's Poem

I.

AMBITION

Another clouded night; the stars are hid,
The orb that waits my search is hid with them.
Patience! Why grudge an hour, a month, a year,...