The Spring In Ireland: 1916 (James Stephens Poems)
IDo not forget my charge I beg of you ;That of what flow'rs you find of fairest hueAnd sweetest odor ...
IDo not forget my charge I beg of you ;That of what flow'rs you find of fairest hueAnd sweetest odor ...
The crooked paths go every way Upon the hill — they wind aboutThrough the heather in and out Of the quiet sunniness.And ...
I heard a bird at dawn Singing sweetly on a tree,That the dew was on the lawn, And the wind was on ...
WHEN the leaves fall off the treesEverybody walks on them :Once they had a time of easeHigh above, and every ...
I heard a bird at dawn Singing sweetly on a tree, That the dew was on the lawn, And the ...
So Eden was deserted, and at eve Into the quiet place God came to grieve. His face was sad, His ...
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