The Ballad Of Father Gilligan (William Butler Yeats Poems)
The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day; For half his flock were in their beds, Or under ...
The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day; For half his flock were in their beds, Or under ...
For certain minutes at the least That crafty demon and that loud beast That plague me day and night Ran ...
The old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand, Under a bitter black wind that blows from the ...
You ask what - I have found, and far and wide I go: Nothing but Cromwell's house and Cromwell's murderous ...
Cumhal called out, bending his head, Till Dathi came and stood, With a blink in his eyes, at the cave-mouth, ...
Fasten your hair with a golden pin, And bind up every wandering tress; I bade my heart build these poor ...
We should be hidden from their eyes, Being but holy shows And bodies broken like a thorn Whereon the bleak ...
Who talks of Plato's spindle; What set it whirling round? Eternity may dwindle, Time is unwound, Dan and Jerry Lout ...
Although I shelter from the rain Under a broken tree, My chair was nearest to the fire In every company ...
Pythagoras planned it. Why did the people stare? His numbers, though they moved or seemed to move In marble or ...
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