Tag Archives: W. H. Auden

Roman Wall Blues Comments Off on Roman Wall Blues

The mist creeps over the hard grey stone,
My girl’s in Tungria; I sleep alone.

Funeral Blues Comments Off on Funeral Blues

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest…

In Memory of W. B. Yeats Comments Off on In Memory of W. B. Yeats

Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.