Patrick Henry Pearse

[Pádraig Pearse] (10 November 1879 – 3 May 1916 / Great Brunswick / Ireland)

Patrick Henry Pearse Poems

Comments about Patrick Henry Pearse

  • Jehanne Anonomous (1/4/2017 5:09:00 PM)

    If Pearse and the other men of 1916 could only see Ireland of today they would weep bitterly and proclaim it all a waste and in vain. If they saw their memorial in Dublin's Dame Street they would burn it down.

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Best Poem of Patrick Henry Pearse

The Wayfarer

The beauty of the world hath made me sad,
This beauty that will pass;
Sometimes my heart hath shaken with great joy
To see a leaping squirrel in a tree,
Or a red lady-bird upon a stalk,
Or little rabbits in a field at evening,
Lit by a slanting sun,
Or some green hill where shadows drifted by
Some quiet hill where mountainy man hath sown
And soon would reap; near to the gate of Heaven;
Or children with bare feet upon the sands
Of some ebbed sea, or playing on the streets
Of little towns in Connacht,
Things young and happy.
And then my heart hath told...

Read the full of The Wayfarer
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