Works

When a Dublin man shall say,
"Give me a little bread, I pray,"
If you do not give him bread
You will be hungry when he is fed.

And let no priest or magistrate
Scowl upon the poor man's plate,...

The wonderful workings of the world: wonderful,
wonderful: I'm surprised half the time:
ground up fine, I puff if a pebble stirs:

I'm nervous: my moarality's intricate: if...

I had a plant which would not thrive,
Although I watered it with care,
I could not save the blossoms fair,
Nor even keep the leaves alive.

I strove till it was vain to strive....

A mountainous and mystic brute
No rein can curb, no arrow shoot,
Upon whose domed deformed back
I sweep the planets scorching track.

Old is the elf, and wise, men say,...

You wrote a line too much, my sage,
Of seers the first, and first of sayers;
For only half the world's a stage,
And only all the women players.

Cynthia.


O Lady Moon, elect of all the spheres
To be the guardian of the ocean-tides,
I charge thee, say, by all thy hopes and fears,
And by thy face, the oracle of brides,...

The nearer camp fires lighted,
The distant beacons bright,
The horsemen on the skyline
Are closing in to-night!
My brothers, Oh my brothers!
Lie down and rest at last,
The Years of Reparation...

It is time for bed, so the nurse declares,
But I slip off to the nook,
The cozy nook at the head of the stairs,
Where daddy's reading his book.

"I want to sit here awhile on your knee,"...

Little patt'rin, clatt'rin feet,
Runnin raand throo morn to neet;
Banishin mi mornin's nap, -
Little bonny, noisy chap, -
But aw can't find fault yo see, -
For he's Dad's lad an he loves me.
...

Gold tassel upon March's bugle-horn,
Whose blithe reveille blows from hill to hill
And every valley rings O Daffodil!
What promise for the season newly born?
Shall wave on wave of flow'rs, full tide of corn,...

The mad wind is the warden,
And the smiling dahlias nod
To the dahlias across the garden,
And the wastes of the golden rod.

They never pray for pardon,
Nor ask his way nor forego,...

He sits. Upon the kingly head doth rest
The round-balled wimple, and the heavy rings
Touch on the shoulders where the shadow clings.
The downward garment shows the ambiguous breast;...

Oh, there are times
When all this fret and tumult that we hear
Do seem more stale than to the sexton's ear
His own dull chimes.

Ding dong! ding dong!
The world is in a simmer like a sea...

I.

Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
To deck her gay, green-spreading bowers;
And now comes in my happy hours,
To wander wi' my Davie.
Meet me on the warlock knowe,...

TO D. M. M.


Greeks once sang a lovely song
To their maiden Cora;
But my lay floats soft along
To my Dainty Dora.

Frenchmen sing of Anne Belle,
Romans sang of Flora;...

Dainty little Love came tripping
Down the hill,
Smiling as he thought of sipping
Sweets at will.
SHE said, "No,
Love must go."
Dainty little Love came tripping
Down the hill.
...

The sweet milkmaid of early days
Her own household she ably sways,
And her daughters now milk the cows,
And her sons they now guide the plows.

These pleasing changes on a farm...

Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune
I saw the white daisies go down to the sea,
A host in the sunshine, an army in June,
The people God sends us to set our heart free.
...

Daisies Out At Sea.


I.

These are the buds we bear beyond the surf, -
Enshrined in mould and turf, -
To take to fields far off, a land's salute
Of high and vast repute, -...

Did you ever hear of Editor Whedon
Giving to the public treasury any of the money he received
For supporting candidates for office?
Or for writing up the canning factory
To get people to invest?...