Nic Treadwell's posts

A Challenge by William Ayot

Arthur O'Shaughnessy - The Fountain of tears

Elidore

connla and the fairy maiden

From Indian Boyhood chapter 1 - Hadakah "The Pitiful Last" by Charles Eastman (1902)

To some I have talked with by the fire by William Butler Yeats.

While I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes,

My heart would brim with dreams about the times

When we bent down above the fading coals

And talked of the dark folk who live in souls

Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;

And of the wayward twilight companies

Who sigh with mingled sorrow and content,

Because their blossoming dreams have never bent

Under the fruit of evil and of good:

And of the embattled flaming multitude

Who rise, wing above wing, flame above flame,

And, like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name,

And with the clashing of their sword-blades make

A rapturous music, till the morning break

And the white hush end all but the loud beat

Of their long wings, the flash of their white feet.

A call of the sidhe by George William Russell

TARRY thou yet, late lingerer in the twilight’s glory:

Gay are the hills with song: earth’s faery children leave

More dim abodes to roam the primrose-hearted eve,

Opening their glimmering lips to breathe some wondrous story.

Hush, not a whisper! Let your heart alone go dreaming.

Dream unto dream may pass: deep in the heart alone

Murmurs the Mighty One his solemn undertone.

Canst thou not see adown the silver cloudland streaming

Rivers of faery light, dewdrop on dewdrop falling,

Star-fire of silver flames, lighting the dark beneath?

And what enraptured hosts burn on the dusky heath!

Come thou away with them for Heaven to Earth is calling.

These are Earth’s voice—her answer—spirits thronging.

Come to the Land of Youth: the trees grown heavy there

Drop on the purple wave the starry fruit they bear.

Drink: the immortal waters quench the spirit’s longing.

Art thou not now, bright one, all sorrow past, in elation,

Made young with joy, grown brother-hearted with the vast,

Whither thy spirit wending flits the dim stars past

Unto the Light of Lights in burning adoration.

By the margin of the great deep by George William Russell

WHEN the breath of twilight blows to flame the misty skies,

All its vaporous sapphire, violet glow and silver gleam

With their magic flood me through the gateway of the eyes;

I am one with the twilight’s dream.

When the trees and skies and fields are one in dusky mood,

Every heart of man is rapt within the mother’s breast:

Full of peace and sleep and dreams in the vasty quietude,

I am one with their hearts at rest.

From our immemorial joys of hearth and home and love

Strayed away along the margin of the unknown tide,

All its reach of soundless calm can thrill me far above

Word or touch from the lips beside.

Aye, and deep and deep and deeper let me drink and draw

From the olden fountain more than light or peace or dream,

Such primeval being as o’erfills the heart with awe,

Growing one with its silent stream.

The Nuts Of Knowledge by George William Russell

Goblin feet by J R R Tolkien