‘Nymphs’ by Katharine Tynan.

Nymphs Where are ye now, O beautiful girls of the mountain, Oreads all ? Nothing at all stirs here save the drip of the fountain; Answer our call Only the heart-glad thrush, in the vale of Thrushes; Stirs in the brake But the dew-bright ear of the hare in his couch of rushes Listening, awake. [...]

Word Images.

The Vowels: Ailm - 'A' Onn- ash-tree, 'O' úr-earth , 'U' Eadhadh-'E' Iodhadh- 'i' éabhadh-'ea' ór-gold-, 'oi' Uileann-elbow 'Ui' ifín-pine, 'ia' Eamhancoll, 'ea'. They relate to Ogham markings, I wanted to publish a photo of a flower I only know as 'flame', which grows wild on roadsides and all over Achill island and in areas of the [...]

Epigrams from An Dúanaire, Le Seán Ó Tuama

If all the sea were ink and all the rocks were chalk, if every bird's wing were a pen and the sky a single sheet, Put a pen in the hand of every man of the seed of Eve and Adam and still they'd leave unwitnessed two thirds of woman's wickedness. Le Seán Ó Tuama [...]

The Philosopher [Excerpt] by Emily Bronte.

I saw a spirit , standing, man, Where thou dost stand-- an hour ago, And round his feet three rivers ran, Of equal depth and equal flow-- A golden stream-- and one like blood; and one like sapphire seemed to be; But where they joined their triple flood it tumbled in an inky sea   [...]