VI His Memories We should be hidden from their eyes， Being but holy shows And bodies broken like a thorn Whereon the bleak north blows， To think of bu...
VII The Friends of his Youth Laughter not time destroyed my voice And put that crack in it， And when the moon‘s pot-bellied I get a laughing fit...
VIII Summer and Spring We sat under an old thorn-tree And talked away the night， Told all that had been said or done Since first we saw the light， And...
IX The Secrets of the Old I have old women‘s secrets now That had those of the young； Madge tells me what I dared not think When my blood was st...
X His Wildness O bid me mount and sail up there Amid the cloudy wrack， For Peg and Meg and Paris‘ love That had so straight a back， Are gone awa...
XI From ‘Oedipus at Colonus’ Endure what life God gives and ask no longer span； Cease to remember the delights of youth， travel-wearied ag...
A cursing rogue with a merry face， A bundle of rags upon a crutch， Stumbled upon that windy place Called Cruachan，1 and it was as much As the one stur...
A doll in the doll-maker‘s house Looks at the cradle and bawls： ‘That is an insult to us.’ But the oldest of all the dolls， Who had ...
I My Soul. I summon to the winding ancient stair； Set all your mind upon the steep ascent， Upon the broken， crumbling battlement， Upon the breathless ...
I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods Make their faint thunder， and the garden bees Hum in the lime-tree flowers； and put away The unavailing ou...