Patrick Henry Pearse
Patrick Henry Pearse Poems
- The Mother I do not grudge them: Lord, I do not grudge My ...
- The Wayfarer The beauty of the world hath made me sad, This ...
- Mise Eire (I Am Ireland) Mise Éire: Sine mé ná an Chailleach...
- The Fool Since the wise men have not spoken, I speak that am ...
- Bean Sléibhe Ag Caoineadh A Mh...
- Why Do Ye Torture Me? Why are ye torturing me, O desires of ...
Patrick Henry Pearse (also known as Pádraig Pearse; Irish: Pádraig Anraí Mac Piarais; An Piarsach; 10 November 1879 – 3 May 1916) was an Irish teacher, barrister, poet, writer, nationalist and political activist who was one of the leaders of the Easter Rising in 1916. He was declared "President of the Provisional Government" of the Irish Republic in one of the bulletins issued by the Rising's leaders, a status that was however disputed by others associated with the rebellion both then and later. Following the collapse of the Rising and the execution of Pearse, his brother (Willie Pearse), and fourteen other leaders, Pearse came to be seen by many as the embodiment of the ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Quotationsmore quotations »
''There are in every generation those who shrink from the ultimate sacrifice, but there are in every generation those who make it with joy and laughter and these are the salt of the generations.''Patrick Henry Pearse (1879-1916), Irish nationalist leader. Commemoration address, March 2, 1914, Brooklyn, N.Y., for Irish patriot Robert Emmet, exec...
I do not grudge them: Lord, I do not grudge
My two strong sons that I have seen go out
To break their strength and die, they and a few,
In bloody protest for a glorious thing,
They shall be spoken of among their people,
The generations shall remember them,
And call them blessed;
But I will speak their names to my own heart
In the long nights;
The little names that were familiar once
Round my dead hearth.
Lord, thou art hard on mothers:
We suffer in their coming and their going;
And tho' I grudge them not, I weary, weary
Of the long sorrow-And yet I ...