Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!

Love comes in at the eye.

I Sing what was lost and dread what was won, / I walk in a battle fought over again.

John Synge, I and Augusta Gregory, thought All that we did, all that we said or sang Must come from contact with the soil, from that Contact everything Antaeus-like grew strong.

The light of lights looks always on the motive, not the deed, the shadow of shadows on the deed alone.

The mystical life is at the centre of all that I do and all that I think and all that I write.

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 Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.