Seamus Heaney Poems
|1.||‘When all the others were away at Mass'||7/23/2015|
|4.||Tankas For Toraiwa||1/10/2012|
|6.||Villanelle For An Anniversary||2/9/2015|
|8.||Anything Can Happen||2/19/2015|
|10.||The Harvest Bow||11/11/2010|
|11.||The Grauballe Man||12/28/2011|
|12.||The Tollund Man||11/11/2010|
|14.||Rite Of Spring||12/28/2011|
|15.||Lovers On Aran||12/28/2011|
|16.||The Early Purges||12/28/2011|
|20.||Mossbawn: Two Poems In Dedication||12/28/2011|
|24.||A Kite For Aibhín||12/28/2011|
|26.||From The Frontier Of Writing||12/28/2011|
|30.||Requiem For The Croppies||12/28/2011|
|32.||Act Of Union||11/11/2010|
|33.||Death Of A Naturalist||12/28/2011|
I sat all morning in the college sick bay
Counting bells knelling classes to a close.
At two o'clock our neighbors drove me home.
In the porch I met my father crying--
He had always taken funerals in his stride--
And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow.
The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram
When I came in, and I was embarrassed
By old men standing up to shake my hand
And tell me they were 'sorry for my trouble,'
Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest,
Away at school, as my mother held my hand
In hers and coughed out angry ...
A rowan like a lipsticked girl.
Between the by-road and the main road
Alder trees at a wet and dripping distance
Stand off among the rushes.
There are the mud-flowers of dialect
And the immortelles of perfect pitch
And that moment when the bird sings very close
To the music of what happens