Changing Ireland: Literary Backgrounds of the Irish Free State, 1889-1922Harvard University Press, 1924 - 259 pages No detailed description available for "Changing Ireland". |
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Page 72
... grave , -1 Mr. Yeats became fired with the determination to create for Ireland a national literature that should differ from the markedly political writing in vogue in his youth ; instead of bristling with rhetorical abuse or martial ...
... grave , -1 Mr. Yeats became fired with the determination to create for Ireland a national literature that should differ from the markedly political writing in vogue in his youth ; instead of bristling with rhetorical abuse or martial ...
Page 86
... Grave of Rury , " perhaps less well known , is in The Dublin Book of Irish Verse . Both poems have the Irish sensitiveness to word melody . " The Grave of Rury " exhibits at its best the elegiac power of the Celt . The combination of ...
... Grave of Rury , " perhaps less well known , is in The Dublin Book of Irish Verse . Both poems have the Irish sensitiveness to word melody . " The Grave of Rury " exhibits at its best the elegiac power of the Celt . The combination of ...
Page 102
... graves , O happy Spring , For they were young and eager who are dead ; Of all things that are young and quivering With eager life be they remembered ; They move not here , they have gone to the clay , They cannot die again for liberty ...
... graves , O happy Spring , For they were young and eager who are dead ; Of all things that are young and quivering With eager life be they remembered ; They move not here , they have gone to the clay , They cannot die again for liberty ...
Page 103
... Graves is one of the six sons of Alfred Perceval Graves , dean of Irish authors , who lives in London and has long been prominent in the affairs of the Irish Literary Society of that city . Young Robert Graves went from school into the ...
... Graves is one of the six sons of Alfred Perceval Graves , dean of Irish authors , who lives in London and has long been prominent in the affairs of the Irish Literary Society of that city . Young Robert Graves went from school into the ...
Page 122
... Graves and Fox - Smith , and because the work of the poets who fell in the Dublin Insurrec- tion of 1916 was widely advertised by sympathizers in the United States . Poets of the Rebellion mon- opolized the stage to the exclusion of ...
... Graves and Fox - Smith , and because the work of the poets who fell in the Dublin Insurrec- tion of 1916 was widely advertised by sympathizers in the United States . Poets of the Rebellion mon- opolized the stage to the exclusion of ...
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Changing Ireland: Literary Backgrounds of the Irish Free State, 1889-1922 Norreys Jephson O'Conor No preview available - 2012 |
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ballad beauty Celtic century chariot Christ Conall Cuchulain death Deirdre dream Dublin early Irish English Fairy Fenian fight Fraech Francis Ledwidge Gaelic League Gaelic literature Gaelic past GEOG give gods gold Graves green Gwynn heart heritage hills Home Rule Ibid imagination Irish history Irish literary Irish literary revival Irish literature Irish nationality Irish past Irish politics Irish problem Irish question Irish writers Irishmen King Lady Gregory land legends literary revival London Lord Dunsany magic Miss Letts Nationalist natural O'Grady Oisin Padraic Padraic Pearse play poems poet poetry Professor prose published reader Rebellion Redmond's rhyme Robinson Rolleston Ros geal dubh sagas Saint Patrick says scholars Shee Sinn Fein Sinn Feiners Songs spirit Stephens stories Synge T. M. Kettle Thomas Davis Thomas MacDonagh thou tion to-day tradition translations Ulster verse volume W. B. Yeats wherein wind women writing Yeats young
Popular passages
Page 75 - 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; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Page 78 - The first time on this shore, The bell-beat of their wings above my head, Trod with a lighter tread. Unwearied still, lover by lover, They paddle in the cold Companionable streams or climb the air; Their hearts have not grown old; Passion or conquest, wander where they will, Attend upon them still.
Page 26 - I arise today Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, Through belief in the threeness, Through confession of the oneness Of the Creator of Creation.
Page 77 - THE trees are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the water Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the stones Are nine-and-fifty swans. The nineteenth autumn has come upon me Since I first made my count; I saw, before I had well finished, All suddenly mount And scatter wheeling in great broken rings Upon their clamorous wings. I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, And now my heart is sore. All's changed...
Page 24 - Magic is just the word for it,- — the magic of nature; not merely the beauty of nature, — that the Greeks and Latins had; not merely an honest smack of the soil, a faithful realism, — that the Germans had; but the intimate life of Nature, her weird power and her fairy charm.
Page 136 - I saw the spires of Oxford As I was passing by, The gray spires of Oxford Against a pearl-gray sky, My heart was with the Oxford men Who went abroad to die.
Page 100 - Be green upon their graves, O happy Spring, For they were young and eager who are dead ; Of all things that are young and quivering With eager life be they remembered: They move not here, they have gone to the clay, They cannot die again for liberty; Be they remembered of their land for aye; Green be their graves and green their memory. " Fragrance and beauty come in with the green, The ragged bushes put on sweet attire, The birds forget how chill these airs have been, The clouds bloom out again...
Page 116 - BEHIND THE CLOSED EYE I WALK the old frequented ways That wind around the tangled braes, I live again the sunny days Ere I the city knew. And scenes of old again are born, The woodbine lassoing the thorn, And drooping Ruth-like in the corn The poppies weep the dew. Above me in their hundred schools The magpies bend their young to rules, And like an apron full of jewels The dewy cobweb swings.
Page 73 - If they had something else to write about besides political opinions, if more of them would write about the beliefs of the people like Allingham, or about old legends like Ferguson, they would find it easier to get a style.' Then with a deliberateness that still surprises me, for in my heart of hearts I have never been quite certain that one should be more than an artist, that even patriotism is more than an impure desire in an artist...
Page 137 - They left the peaceful river, The cricket field, the quad, The shaven lawns of Oxford To seek a bloody sod. They gave their merry youth away For country and for God. God rest you, happy gentlemen, Who laid your good lives down, Who took the khaki and the gun Instead of cap and gown. God bring you to a fairer place Than even Oxford town.