April Dusk (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
April dusk It is tragic to be a poet now And not a lover Paradised under the mutest bough. I look through my window ...
April dusk It is tragic to be a poet now And not a lover Paradised under the mutest bough. I look through my window ...
We borrowed the loan of Kerr's assTo go to Dundalk with butter,Brought him home the evening before the marketAnd exile ...
Now leave the check-reins slack,The seed is flying far today -The seed like stars against the blackEternity of April clay.This ...
Leafy-with-love banks and the green waters of the canal Pouring redemption for me, that I do The will of God, ...
I have lived in important places, times When great events were decided, who owned That half a rood of rock, ...
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