Tathagata
Lazarus Monkey
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Beannachtai na Feile Padraig!
- Thread starter Tathagata
- Start date
PatCarrington
fingering the buttons
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Tathagata said:
a personal thanks to you, sir.
the beer is down, to its proper home.
if i knew how to paste an image of the empty glass here, i would...but you know well what they look like.
happy st. patty's tath, and to all.
padraig
minsue
Gosling
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Tathagata
Lazarus Monkey
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PatCarrington said:a personal thanks to you, sir.
the beer is down, to its proper home.
if i knew how to paste an image of the empty glass here, i would...but you know well what they look like.
happy st. patty's tath, and to all.
Slainte' is Tainte' to you and yours brother.
an empty glass...what a terrible sight.
Trent_Dutch
Really Experienced
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Happy St Paddies...... the craic'll be oot the nicht.
Tathagata
Lazarus Monkey
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Angeline said:I know he's on the other thread, but he belongs here, too, and you can never have enough Yeats.
The photo was taken in Coole Park, in Ireland where he lived.
You sure you don't have any Irish in you?
so to speak...<--elipsis for ya
Thank you Ange
Angeline
Poet Chick
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Tathagata said:Braggart
I can't be mean to you on St. Patricks's Day. I'll pencil you in for tomorrow. In the meantime let me continue to express my Yeats infection.
And may I never recover.
Coole Park, 1929
William Butler Yeats
I meditate upon a swallow's flight,
Upon a aged woman and her house,
A sycamore and lime-tree lost in night
Although that western cloud is luminous,
Great works constructed there in nature's spite
For scholars and for poets after us,
Thoughts long knitted into a single thought,
A dance-like glory that those walls begot.
There Hyde before he had beaten into prose
That noble blade the Muses buckled on,
There one that ruffled in a manly pose
For all his timid heart, there that slow man,
That meditative man, John Synge, and those
Impetuous men, Shawe-Taylor and Hugh Lane,
Found pride established in humility,
A scene well Set and excellent company.
They came like swallows and like swallows went,
And yet a woman's powerful character
Could keep a Swallow to its first intent;
And half a dozen in formation there,
That seemed to whirl upon a compass-point,
Found certainty upon the dreaming air,
The intellectual sweetness of those lines
That cut through time or cross it withershins.
Here, traveller, scholar, poet, take your stand
When all those rooms and passages are gone,
When nettles wave upon a shapeless mound
And saplings root among the broken stone,
And dedicate - eyes bent upon the ground,
Back turned upon the brightness of the sun
And all the sensuality of the shade -
A moment's memory to that laurelled head.
