William Allingham
William Allingham
William Allinghamwas an Irish poet, diarist and editor. He wrote several volumes of lyric verse, and his poem 'The Faeries' was much anthologised; but he is better known for his posthumously published Diary, in which he records his lively encounters with Tennyson, Carlyle and other writers and artists. His wife, Helen Allingham, was a well-known water-colorist and illustrator...
NationalityIrish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth19 March 1824
CountryIreland
sweet home land
Yet dearer still that Irish hill than all the world beside; It's home, sweet home, where'er I roam, through lands and waterswide.
revenge hatred selfishness
History of Ireland--lawlessness and turbulency, robbery and oppression, hatred and revenge, blind selfishness everywhere--no principle, no heroism. What can be done with it?
kings spring yellow
Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose, A bright yellow primrose blowing in the spring! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across, And the elm-tree for our king!
men pardon-me foe
If any foes of mine are there, I pardon every one: I hope that man and womankind will do the same by me.
sleep wind water
Winds and waters keepA hush more dead than any sleep.
summer sweet love-is
Scarcely a tear to shed; Hardly a word to say; The end of a Summer's day; Sweet Love is dead.
sin sinner
Sin we have explain'd away; Unluckily, the sinners stay.
three seeming observers
One who can see without seeming to see-- That's an observer as good as three.
sadness autumn past
Bare twigs in April enhance our pleasure; We know the good time is yet to come.... Bare twigs in Autumn are signs for sadness; We feel the good time is well-nigh past.
flower pluck traveler
Pluck not the wayside flower; It is the traveler's dower.
song morning waiting
Fairies, arouse! Mix with your song Harplet and pipe, Thrilling and clear, Swarm on the boughs! Chant in a throng! Morning is ripe, Waiting to hear.
mother kissing sweetest
The mother's kiss is the sweetest thing ever.
song heart my-heart
She danced a jig, she sung a song that took my heart away.
writing
Writing is learning to say nothing, more cleverly every day.