Our freedom as free lancesadvances toward its end;The earth compels, upon itSonnets and birds descend;And soon my friend We shall have no time for dances.
Why do we like being Irish? Partly because It gives us a hold on the sentimental English As members of a world that never was, Baptized with fairy water
The sunlight on the garden Hardens and grows cold, We cannot cage the minute Within its nets of gold
Time was away and somewhere else, / There were two glasses and two chairs / And two people with one pulse.