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TheoretikosThis mighty1 empire hath but feet of clay:Of all its ancient chivalry2 and mightOur little island is forsaken
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PITY Oh do not Pity me because I gave My heart when lovely April with a gust1, Swept down the singing lanes with a cool
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PATTERNS I WALK down the garden paths, And all the daffodils Are blowing, and the bright blue squills. I walk down the p
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MEMPHIS WHY should I sing of my present? It is noth- ing to me or you, Rather I'd dream of Dixie and tie ships on the ol
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Easter Week (In memory of Joseph Mary Plunkett) (Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave.) Will
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The Visitation (For Louise Imogen Guiney) There is a wall of flesh before the eyes Of John, who yet perceives and hails
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To Erinna Was Time not harsh to you, or was he kind, O pale Erinna of the perfect lyre, That he has left no word of sing
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Love in Autumn I sought among the drifting leaves,The golden leaves that once were green, To see if Love were hiding the
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But Not to Me The April night is still and sweetWith flowers on every tree; Peace comes to them on quiet feet, But not t