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Autumn Journal
— published 1998 — 3 editions |
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Letters From Iceland
— published 1937 — 6 editions |
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Collected Poems of Louis MacNeice
— published 1949 — 4 editions |
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Selected Poems
— published 1990 — 8 editions |
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The Strings Are False
— published 1965 — 2 editions |
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The Dark Tower
— 2 editions |
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The Poetry of W. B. Yeats
— 3 editions |
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The Agamemnon Of Aeschylus
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Astrology
— 3 editions |
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Selected Plays of Louis MacNeice
— published 1993 |
“World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.”
― Louis MacNeice
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.”
― Louis MacNeice
“The Sunlight on the Garden
The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.
Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.
The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying
And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.”
― Louis MacNeice, Collected Poems 1925-1948
The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.
Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.
The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying
And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.”
― Louis MacNeice, Collected Poems 1925-1948
“None of our hearts are pure, we always have mixed motives.
Are self deceivers, but the worst of all
Deceits is to murmur 'Lord, I am not worthy'
And, lying easy, turn your face to the wall. ”
― Louis MacNeice, Autumn Journal
Are self deceivers, but the worst of all
Deceits is to murmur 'Lord, I am not worthy'
And, lying easy, turn your face to the wall. ”
― Louis MacNeice, Autumn Journal








