John Boyle O'Reilly

(28 June 1844 - 10 August 1890 / Dowth Castle, County Meath)

John Boyle O'Reilly Poems

121. A Nation's Test 5/21/2012
122. Liberty Lighting The World 5/20/2012
123. A Seed 5/20/2012
124. Rules Of The Road 5/21/2012
125. The Well's Secret 5/21/2012
126. Constancy 5/20/2012
127. A Passage 5/20/2012
128. My Mother's Memory 5/20/2012
129. Love, And Be Wise 5/20/2012
130. The Exile Of The Gael 5/20/2012
131. Love's Sacrifice 5/21/2012
132. A Year 5/20/2012
133. 406 [unfinished] 5/20/2012
134. Crispus Attucks 5/20/2012
135. My Native Land 5/20/2012
136. America 5/21/2012
137. A Dead Man 5/21/2012
138. Yesterday And Tomorrow 5/20/2012
139. A Tragedy 5/20/2012
140. A Message Of Peace 5/20/2012
141. A Man 5/20/2012
142. At Fredericksburg—dec. 13, 1862 5/21/2012
143. What Is Good 5/20/2012
144. A Builder's Lesson 5/20/2012
145. A Song For Soldiers 5/21/2012
146. A Lost Friend 5/20/2012
147. A Kiss 5/20/2012
148. Experience 12/31/2002
149. At Best 1/1/2004
150. An Old Picture 5/20/2012
151. A White Rose 12/31/2002

Comments about John Boyle O'Reilly

  • NEAL 251 (6/17/2005 8:10:00 AM)

    I LIKE JOHN BOYLE OREILLY. HE IS NOT THE GREATEST POET. HE WAS A RENAISANCE MAN. HE WAS A SOLDIER, A WRITER, A REVOLUTIONARY AND OBVIOUSLY A ROMANTIC. THE POEM I LIKE BEST IS A WHITE ROSE. HE KIND OF REMINDS ME OF ME. I LIKE TO READ AND LOVE ART LOVE MUSIC BUT I AM AN ATHLETE, A SOLDIER AND A FIREARMS ENTHUSIAST BUT A ROMANTIC AS WELL.

    6 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
Best Poem of John Boyle O'Reilly

At Best

o






The faithful helm commands the keel,
From port to port fair breezes blow;
But the ship must sail the convex sea,
Nor may she straighter go.

So, man to man; in fair accord,
On thought and will the winds may wait;
But the world will bend the passing word,
Though its shortest course be straight.

From soul to soul the shortest line
At best will bended be:
The ship that holds the straightest course
Still sails the convex sea.




o

Read the full of At Best

406 [unfinished]

I do not know the meaning of the sign,
But bend before its power, as a reed bends
When the black tornado fills the valley to the lips.
Three times in twenty years its shape has come
On lines of fire on the black veil of mystery;
At first, tho' strange, it seemed familiar,
And lingered on the mind as if at rest;
The second time if flashed a thrill came, too,
For supernature spoke, or tried to speak;

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