The Ballad Of Father O’Hart (William Butler Yeats Poems)
Good Father John O'Hart In penal days rode out To a Shoneen who had free lands And his own snipe ...
Good Father John O'Hart In penal days rode out To a Shoneen who had free lands And his own snipe ...
I cried when the moon was mutmuring to the birds: 'Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will, I ...
Fled foam underneath us, and round us, a wandering and milky smoke, High as the Saddle-girth, covering away from our ...
I I walk through the long schoolroom questioning; A kind old nun in a white hood replies; The children learn ...
I call on those that call me son, Grandson, or great-grandson, On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts, To judge what ...
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