Tag Archives: W. B. Yeats

Holiday in Ireland: August 2016

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On Tuesday we found ourselves at Lissadell House, the ancestral home of the Gore-Booth family, six years after we first visited it and Co. Sligo. Back then we went to see and hear Leonard Cohen; this time the house itself – famous for its connection with Constance Markievicz (née Gore-Booth) and W.B. Yeats – was the attraction. We looked out at the rain through the windows of which Yeats wrote (and Cohen recited):

The light of evening, Lissadell,
Great windows open to the south,
Two girls in silk kimonos, both
Beautiful, one a gazelle.
(from ‘In Memory of Eva Gore-Booth and Con Markievicz’)

There’s an extensive and excellent Easter 1916 exhibition in Lissadell at present, including a lot of Markievicz paraphernalia. There is also a wealth of material related to Yeats and his brother, the prolific painter Jack B. Yeats. Continue reading

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Filed under Ireland, Literature, Memories, Poems, Politics

Poems recast as limericks

Some years ago, a blog I visited asked for famous poems to be reimagined in the form of limericks. I came up with two.

THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE
By William Butler Yeats

Young Mr Yeats, W. B.
Thought he’d visit that isle, Innisfree;
A cabin he built
Out of twigs and some silt,
Then peace came, dropping down from a tree.

STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING
By Robert Frost

A coldhearted fellow named Frost
Once found there were woods to be crossed;
It was snowing, but still,
While his horse caught a chill,
He lingered as if he was lost.

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Filed under Poems

A day in Dublin

Yesterday I went to Dublin … something I do too rarely these days. It was a lovely day … we always said that Dublin looks good in the sunshine. If I’d had a camera I could have taken some nice shots, particularly of the small Huguenot cemetery in Merrion Row, which was a riot of bluebells.

I went to Toner’s pub in Baggot Street … it hasn’t changed in the 25 or so years since I used to frequent it, though the ownership has. I looked around and thought about my friends from those days coming smiling through the door … especially one friend who is no longer with us. Continue reading

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Filed under The music of what happened