"Come Away" Exhibition Pieces

A response to the Poetry of W.B. Yeats

The mystical writings of Yeats engendered colourful dreams and enabled her to form new ideas and create colourful semi-abstract work which proved highly successful. ~ Ulster Society of Women's Artists

Down by the Salley Gardens

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;

She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.

She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;

But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.

In a field by the river my love and I did stand,

And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.

She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;

But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

Play audio of this poem in song form to listen to as you scroll through this exhibition:

Cú Chulainn's Fight with the Sea

A man came slowly from the setting sun,

To Emer, raddling raiment in her dun,

And said, "I am that swine-herd whom you bid,

Go watch the road between the wood and tide,

But now I have no need to watch it more."

The Hosting of the Sidhe

The host is riding from Knocknarea

And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare;

Caoilte tossing his burning hair

And Niamh calling Away, come away:

Empty your heart of its mortal dream.

The Wild Swans at Coole

The trees are in their autumn beauty,

The woodland paths are dry,

Under the October twilight the water

Mirrors a still sky;

Upon the brimming water among the stones

Are nine-and-fifty swans.

When You are Old

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

You eyes had once, and of their shadows deep...

Coole Park and Ballylee

Under my window-ledge the waters race,

Otters below and moor-hens on the top,

Run for a mile undimmed in Heaven's face

Then darkening through 'dark' Raftery's 'cellar' drop,

Run underground, rise in a rocky place

In Coole demesne, and there to finish up

Spread to a lake and drop into a hole.

What's water but the generated soul?

The Ragged Wood

O hurry where by water among the trees

The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh,

When they have but looked upon their images —

Would none had ever loved but you and I!

Red Hanrahan's Song About Ireland

The old brown trees break in two high over Cummen Strand,

Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;

Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies,

But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes

Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The Song of Wandering Aengus

The Silver Apple of the Moon

The Golden Apple of the Sun

......Though I am old with wandering

Through hollow lands and hilly lands,

I will find out where she has gone,

And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass.

And pluck till time and times are done

The silver apples of the moon,

The golden apples of the sun.

The Stolen Child

Where dips the rocky highland

Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,

There lies a leafy island

Where flapping herons wake

The drowsy water rats;

There we've hid our faery vats,

Full of berrys

And of reddest stolen cherries.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

The Fiddler of Dooney

When I play on my fiddle in Dooney,

Folk dance like a wave of the sea;

My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,

My brother in Moharabuiee.

I passed my brother and cousin:

They read in their books of prayer;

I read in my book of songs

I bought at the Sligo fair.

Aodh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

The Land of Heart's Desire / From Celtic Twilight

......Come, faeries, take me out of this dull house!

Let me have all the freedom I have lost;

Work when I will and idle when I will!

Faeries, come take me out of this dull world,

For I would ride with you upon the wind,

Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,

And dance upon the mountains like a flame.

Easter 1916

I have met them at close of day

Coming with vivid faces

From counter or desk among grey

Eighteenth-century houses.

I have passed with a nod of the head

Or polite meaningless words,

Or have lingered awhile and said

Polite meaningless words,

And thought before I had done

Of a mocking tale or a gibe

To please a companion

Around the fire at the club,

Being certain that they and I

But lived where motley is worn:

All changed, changed utterly:

A terrible beauty is born.

An Irish Airman Foresees his Death

I know that I shall meet my fate

Somewhere among the clouds above;

Those that I fight I do not hate,

Those that I guard I do not love;

My country is Kiltartan Cross,

My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,

No likely end could bring them loss

Or leave them happier than before.

Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,

Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,

A lonely impulse of delight

Drove to this tumult in the clouds;

I balanced all, brought all to mind,

The years to come seemed waste of breath,

A waste of breath the years behind

In balance with this life, this death.

The Cat & the Moon

The cat went here and there

And the moon spun round like a top,

And the nearest kin of the moon,

The creeping cat, looked up.

Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,

For, wander and wail as he would,

The pure cold light in the sky

Troubled his animal blood.

Also inspired by Yeats:

By Garavogue River

I was reading one of Yeats' books called 'A Celtic Twilight', and dreamed this image of the wild Montbretia growing by the side of the beautiful Garavogue River in county Sligo.

Tribute to the Exiles

In those days, everybody knew each other's business, and (through marriage, for example) all the families made up a clan within one locality, the clachan.

Exhibitions Navigation:

Skylines of Belfast ←Come Away (2016)→W.B. Yeats (New work)

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