The true faith discovered was When painted panel, statuary, Glass-mosaic, window-glass, Amended what was told awry By some peasant gospeler.

Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die.

An intellectual hatred is the worst.

Who mocks at music mocks at love.

For the good are always the merry, / Save by an evil chance,/ And the merry love the fiddle,/ And the merry love to dance: / And when the folk there spy me,/ They will all come up to me, / With,”Here is the fiddler of Dooney!” / And dance like a wave of the sea.

The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood.

A man in his own secret meditation / Is lost amid the labyrinth that he has made / In art or politics.