Patrick Kavanagh
The Great Hunger by Patrick Kavanagh

The Great Hunger by Patrick Kavanagh

I Clay is the word and clay is the flesh Where the potato-gatherers like mechanised scarecrows move Along the side-fall of the hill - Maguire and his men. If we watch them an ...

0
In Memory Of My Mother by Patrick Kavanagh

In Memory Of My Mother by Patrick Kavanagh

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see You walking down a lane among the poplars On your way to the station, or happily Going to second ...

0
On Raglan Road by Patrick Kavanagh

On Raglan Road by Patrick Kavanagh

On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue; I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way, ...

0
Memory Of My Father by Patrick Kavanagh

Memory Of My Father by Patrick Kavanagh

Every old man I seeReminds me of my fatherWhen he had fallen in love with deathOne time when sheaves were gathered.That man I saw in Gardner StreetStumbled on the kerb was one,He ...

0
Canal Bank Walk by Patrick Kavanagh

Canal Bank Walk by Patrick Kavanagh

Leafy-with-love banks and the green waters of the canalPouring redemption for me, that I doThe will of God, wallow in the habitual, the banal,Grow with nature again as before I ...

0
Inniskeen Road: July Evening by Patrick Kavanagh

Inniskeen Road: July Evening by Patrick Kavanagh

The bicycles go by in twos and threes -There's a dance in Billy Brennan's barn to-night,And there's the half-talk code of mysteriesAnd the wink-and-elbow language of ...

0
Peace by Patrick Kavanagh

Peace by Patrick Kavanagh

And sometimes I am sorry when the grassIs growing over the stones in quiet hollowsAnd the cocksfoot leans across the rutted cart-passThat I am not the voice of country fellowsWho ...

0
Epic by Patrick Kavanagh

Epic by Patrick Kavanagh

I have lived in important places, timesWhen great events were decided, who ownedThat half a rood of rock, a no-man's landSurrounded by our pitchfork-armed claims.I heard the ...

0
To The Man After The Harrow by Patrick Kavanagh

To The Man After The Harrow by Patrick Kavanagh

Now leave the check-reins slack,The seed is flying far today -The seed like stars against the blackEternity of April clay.This seed is potent as the seedOf knowledge in the Hebrew ...

0
Shancoduff by Patrick Kavanagh

Shancoduff by Patrick Kavanagh

My black hills have never seen the sun rising,Eternally they look north towards Armagh.Lot's wife would not be salt if she had beenIncurious as my black hills that are happyWhen ...

0
On An Apple-Ripe September Morning by Patrick Kavanagh

On An Apple-Ripe September Morning by Patrick Kavanagh

On an apple-ripe September morningThrough the mist-chill fields I wentWith a pitch-fork on my shoulderLess for use than for devilment.The threshing mill was set-up, I knew,In ...

0
Wet Evening In April by Patrick Kavanagh

Wet Evening In April by Patrick Kavanagh

The birds sang in the wet trees And I listened to them it was a hundred years from now And I was dead and someone else was listening to them. But I was glad I had recorded for him ...

0
Advent by Patrick Kavanagh

Advent by Patrick Kavanagh

We have tested and tasted too much, lover-Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder.But here in the Advent-darkened roomWhere the dry black bread and the sugarless teaOf ...

0
Stony Grey Soil by Patrick Kavanagh

Stony Grey Soil by Patrick Kavanagh

O stony grey soil of MonaghanThe laugh from my love you thieved;You took the gay child of my passionAnd gave me your clod-conceived.You clogged the feet of my boyhoodAnd I ...

0
A Christmas Childhood by Patrick Kavanagh

A Christmas Childhood by Patrick Kavanagh

One side of the potato-pits was white with frost -How wonderful that was, how wonderful!And when we put our ears to the paling-postThe music that came out was magical.The light ...

0
Kerr’s Ass by Patrick Kavanagh

Kerr’s Ass by Patrick Kavanagh

We borrowed the loan of Kerr's assTo go to Dundalk with butter,Brought him home the evening before the marketAnd exile that night in Mucker.We heeled up the cart before the ...

0
A Star by Patrick Kavanagh

A Star by Patrick Kavanagh

Beauty was thatFar vanished flame,Call it a starWanting better name.And gaze and gazeVaguely untilNothing is leftSave a grey ghost-hill.Here wait IOn the world's rimStretching out ...

0
March by Patrick Kavanagh

March by Patrick Kavanagh

There's a wind blowingCold through the corridors,A ghost-wind,The flapping of defeated wings,A hell-fantasyFrom meadows damnedTo eternal AprilAnd listening, listeningTo the windI ...

0
April Dusk by Patrick Kavanagh

April Dusk by Patrick Kavanagh

April duskIt is tragic to be a poet nowAnd not a loverParadised under the mutest bough.I look through my window and seeThe ghost of life flitting bat-winged.O I am as old as a ...

0
Gospel by Patrick Kavanagh

Gospel by Patrick Kavanagh

We are the children of light, Wise, not companionedBy goatsIn a condemned graveyard.Backward blowingBlizzards of memoryFlatten outThe genealogies.But here a point,The objective ...

0
Having To Live In The Country by Patrick Kavanagh

Having To Live In The Country by Patrick Kavanagh

Back once again in wild, wet Monaghan Exiled from thought and feeling, A mean brutality reigns: It is really a horrible position to be in And I equate myself with Dante And all ...

0
Innocence by Patrick Kavanagh

Innocence by Patrick Kavanagh

They laughed at one I loved-The triangular hill that hungUnder the Big Forth. They said That I was bounded by the whitethorn hedgesOf the little farm and did not know the ...

0
Primrose by Patrick Kavanagh

Primrose by Patrick Kavanagh

Upon a bank I sat, a child made seerOf one small primrose flowering in my mind.Better than wealth it is, I said, to findOne small page of Truth's manuscript made clear.I looked at ...

0
My Father Played The Melodeon by Patrick Kavanagh

My Father Played The Melodeon by Patrick Kavanagh

My father played the melodeonOutside at our gate,There were stars in the morning eastAnd they danced to his music.Across the world bogs his melodeon calledTo Lennons and CallansAs ...

0
Best Selling BooksGrab Now!
+ +