Padraic Colum

(8 December 1881 – 11 January 1972 / County Longford)

Padraic Colum Poems

1. Crane 4/20/2010
2. Dedication: To M. C. M. C. 4/20/2010
3. Humming-Bird 4/20/2010
4. Dedicatory Poem: To George Sigerson, Poet And Scholar 4/20/2010
5. Garadh 4/20/2010
6. Hawaiian 4/20/2010
7. Kalmuck Bride 4/20/2010
8. Hornets 4/20/2010
9. Gilderoy 4/20/2010
10. David Ap Gwillam At The Mass Of The Birds 4/20/2010
11. Dublin Roads 4/20/2010
12. In Memory Of John Butler Yeats 4/20/2010
13. Legend 4/20/2010
14. Dermott Donn Macmorna 4/20/2010
15. Queen Gormlai 4/20/2010
16. Swallow 4/20/2010
17. Men On Islands 4/20/2010
18. Laburnums 4/20/2010
19. Jackdaw 4/20/2010
20. In The Carolina Woods 4/20/2010
21. Odysseus: In Memory Of Arthur Griffith 4/20/2010
22. Fuchsia Hedges In Connacht 4/20/2010
23. Imitation Of A Welsh Poem 4/20/2010
24. Pigeons 4/20/2010
25. Verses For Alfeo Faggi's Stations Of The Cross 4/20/2010
26. The Toy-Maker 4/20/2010
27. Spinning Songs 4/20/2010
28. The Rune-Master 4/20/2010
29. The Beggar's Child 4/20/2010
30. Girls Spinning 4/20/2010
31. Condors 4/20/2010
32. Breffne Caoinc 4/20/2010
33. Sojourning And Wandering 4/20/2010
34. The Terrible Robber Men 4/20/2010
35. King Cahill's Farewell To The Rye Field 4/20/2010
36. Reminiscence 4/20/2010
37. Wild Ass 4/20/2010
38. Plovers 4/20/2010
39. Blades 4/20/2010
40. On Two Sisters Whose Deaths Were Together 4/20/2010

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Best Poem of Padraic Colum

Old Woman Of The Roads

O, to have a little house!
To own the hearth and stool and all!
The heaped up sods against the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!
To have a clock with weights and chains
And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!
I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store!
I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loth to leave
The ticking clock ...

Read the full of Old Woman Of The Roads

I Shall Not Die For Thee

O woman, shapely as the swan,
On your account I shall not die:
The men you've slain -- a trivial clan --
Were less than I.
I ask me shall I die for these --
For blossom teeth and scarlet lips --
And shall that delicate swan-shape
Bring me eclipse?
Well-shaped the breasts and smooth the skin,

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