Status Updates From Les cygnes sauvages à Coole

Second coming

'Call down the hawk from the air;
Let him be hooded or caged
Till the yellow eye has grown mild,
For larder and spit are bare,
The old cook enraged,
The scullion gone wild.'

'I will not be clapped in a hood,
Nor a cage, nor alight upon wrist,
Now I have learnt to be proud
Hovering over the wood
In the broken mist
Or tumbling cloud.'

I WOULD be ignorant as the dawn
That has looked down
On that old queen measuring a town
With the pin of a brooch,
Or on the withered men that saw
From their pedantic Babylon
The careless planets in their courses,
The stars fade out where the moon comes.
And took their tablets and did sums;
I would be ignorant as the dawn
That merely stood, rocking the glittering coach
Above the cloudy shoulders of the horses;

The trees are in their autumn beauty
The woodlands paths are dry
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky

The Double Vision of Michael Robartes

Ego Dominus Tuus

Upon a Dying Lady

Broken Dreams

Lines written in dejection

The Sad Shepherd

Men Improve with the Years

An Irish Airman Foresees His Death

In Memory of Major Robert Gregory