That bellies and drags in the wind
Into its narrow shed.
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‘THOSE Platonists are a curse,’ he said,
A diagram hung there instead,More women born than men.’
I walked among the seven woods of Coole:
Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn;Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no,Where many hundred squirrels are as happyAs though they had been hidden hy green houghsWhere old age cannot find them; Paire-na-lee,Where hazel and ash and privet hlind the paths:Dim Pairc-na-carraig, where the wild bees flingTheir sudden fragrances on the green air;Dim Pairc-na-tarav, where enchanted eyesHave…
He. Dear, I must be gone
Of the household spies;That song announces dawn.She. No, night’s bird and love’sBids all true lovers rest,While his loud song reprovesThe murderous stealth of day.He. Daylight already fliesFrom mountain crest to crestShe. That light is from the moon.He. That bird…She. Let him sing on,I offer to love’s playMy dark declivities.
The dews drop slowly and dreams gather: unknown spears
And then the clash of fallen horsemen and the criesOf unknown perishing armies beat about my ears.We who still labour by the cromlech on the shore,The grey caim on the hill, when day sinks drowned in dew,Being weary of the world’s empires, bow down to you.Master of the still stars and of the flaming door.
MUCH did I rage when young,
But now with flattering tongueIt speeds the parting guest.
He. Opinion is not worth a rush;
Who grips his long spear so to pushThat dragon through the fading light,Loved the lady; and it’s plainThe half-dead dragon was her thought,That every morning rose againAnd dug its claws and shrieked and fought.Could the impossible come to passShe would have time to turn her eyes,Her lover thought, upon the glassAnd on the instant would…