Having To Live in the Country (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
Back once again in wild, wet MonaghanExiled from thought and feeling,A mean brutality reigns:It is really a horrible position to ...
Back once again in wild, wet MonaghanExiled from thought and feeling,A mean brutality reigns:It is really a horrible position to ...
April dusk It is tragic to be a poet now And not a lover Paradised under the mutest bough. I look through my window ...
There's a wind blowing Cold through the corridors, A ghost-wind, The flapping of defeated wings, A hell-fantasy From meadows damned To eternal April And listening, listening To the ...
My black hills have never seen the sun rising, Eternally they look north towards Armagh. Lot's wife would not be ...
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