Everything in nature is resurrection.

And the merry love the fiddle, and the merry love to dance.

Odor of blood when Christ was slain Made all Platonic tolerance vain And vain all Doric discipline.

We only believe in those thoughts which have been conceived not in the brain but in the whole body.

Cast your mind on other days that we in coming days may be still the indomitable Irishry.

We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason ourselves into it.

I'm looking for the face I had, before the world was made.