The only enemy of innocence and beauty is time.

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.

It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.

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.

Come let us mock at the great That had such burdens on the mind And toiled so hard and late To leave some monument behind, Nor thought of the leveling wind.

Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest soon topples down the hill.

The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.