Red is the Rose E-Book

Various

• Herausgeber: The O'Brien Press
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012

Seitenzahl: 40

Beschreibung

Dedicated to the most inspirational of subjects, this memorable collection of poetry is sure to be the perfect companion to those in love. With timeless works from some of the most noted poets of all time, this collection has the perfect balance of classic and modern styles.

Leseprobe

Contents

Title Page

‘Inventions of Delight’

The Time I’ve Lost in Wooing Thomas Moore

A Poet To His BelovedW.B. Yeats

The Snowy-Breasted PearlTranslated by Sir George Petrie

He Wishes for the Cloths of HeavenW.B. Yeats

The Lark In The Clear AirTraditional

Is It a MonthJ. M. Synge

New LoveJoseph Mary Plunkett

The KissThomas Moore

Love’s Young DreamThomas Moore

Brown PennyW.B. Yeats

Pulse of My HeartAnonymous

Remembered Love

And Then No MoreJames Clarence Mangan

The Song of Wandering AengusW.B. Yeats

We Parted in SilenceIsabella Valancy Crawford

He Tells Of A Valley Full Of LoversW.B. Yeats

To HeleneGeorge Darley

Do You Remember That Night?Translated by Eugene O’Curry

InamorataFrancis Ledwidge

When You are OldW.B. Yeats

‘No one has ever loved but you and I …’

NocturneFrances Wynne

Oh, Call It by Some Better NameThomas Moore

My Hope, My LoveAnonymous

QueensJ. M. Synge

Amo, AmasJohn O’Keefe

The Ragged WoodW.B. Yeats

Had I a Golden PoundFrancis Ledwidge

If Thoul’t Be MineThomas Moore

The Heart Of The WomanW.B. Yeats

SongFrancis Ledwidge

Romancing ’Round Ireland

Youghal HarbourAnonymous

My Lagan LoveTraditional

On Deborah Perkins of the County of WicklowAnonymous

The Lapful of NutsAnonymous

Lovely Mary DonnellyWilliam Allingham

‘Who Could Deny You Love?’

It Is Not Beauty I DemandGeorge Darley

Dear Dark HeadTranslated by Sir Samuel Ferguson

Your SongsJoseph Mary Plunkett

On BeautyJohn Kelly

SheAnonymous

The LionsJoseph Mary Plunkett

The Vision of LoveAE (George William Russell)

‘Lovely and fair as the rose of the summer …’

Red is the RoseTraditional

A White RoseJohn Boyle O’Reilly

The Rose of MooncoinWatt Murphy

The Last Rose of SummerThomas Moore

The Little Black Rose Shall Be Red At LastJoseph Mary Plunkett

‘Time will but make thee more dear …’

Believe me, if all those endearing young charmsThomas Moore

Any WifeKatharine Tynan

My Love is Like a CabbageOral poem from Tyrone

The Folly of Being ComfortedW.B. Yeats

Index of titles

Index of first lines

Copyright

‘INVENTIONS OF DELIGHT’

The Time I’ve Lost in Wooing

The time I’ve lost in wooing,

In watching and pursuing

The light that lies

In woman’s eyes,

Has been my heart’s undoing.

Though Wisdom oft has sought me,

I scorn’d the lore she brought me,

My only books

Were woman’s looks,

And folly’s all they’ve taught me.

Her smile when Beauty granted,

I hung with gaze enchanted,

Like him the Sprite,

Whom maids by night

Oft meet in glen that’s haunted.

Like him, too, Beauty won me,

But while her eyes were on me,

If once their ray

Was turn’d away,

O! winds could not outrun me.

And are those follies going?

And is my proud heart growing

Too cold or wise

For brilliant eyes

Again to set it glowing?

No, vain, alas! the endeavour

From bonds so sweet to sever;

Poor Wisdom’s chance

Against a glance

Is now as weak as ever.

Thomas Moore

A Poet To His Beloved

I bring you with reverent hands

The books of my numberless dreams,

White woman that passion has worn

As the tide wears the dove-grey sands,

And with heart more old than the horn

That is brimmed from the pale fire of time:

White woman with numberless dreams,

I bring you my passionate rhyme.

W.B. Yeats

The Snowy-Breasted Pearl

There’s a colleen fair as May,

For a year and for a day

I’ve sought by every way her heart to gain.

There’s no art of tongue or eye

Fond youths with maidens try

But I’ve tried with ceaseless sigh, yet tried in vain.

If to France or far-off Spain

She’d cross the watery main,

To see her face again the sea I’d brave.

And if ’tis heaven’s decree

That mine she may not be

May the son of Mary me in mercy save!

O thou blooming milk-white dove,

To whom I’ve given true love,

Do not ever thus reprove my constancy.

There are maidens would be mine,

With wealth in hand and kine,

If my heart would but incline to turn from thee.

But a kiss with welcome bland,

And a touch of thy dear hand,

Are all that I demand, would’st thou not spurn;

For if not mine, dear girl,

O Snowy-Breasted Pearl!

May I never from the fair with life return!

Translated by Sir George Petrie

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;