Ireland Is The Old Sow That Eats

He Asked Himself What Is A Woman Standing On The Stairs In The Shadow, Listening To Distant Music, A Symbol Of. If He Were A Painter He Would Paint Her In That Attitude. Her Blue Felt Hat Would Show Off The Bronze Of Her Hair Against The Darkness And The Dark Panels Of Her Skirt Would Show Off The Light Ones. Distant Music He Would Call The Picture If He Were A Painter.

Very Gratefully, With Grateful Appreciation, With Sincere Appreciative Gratitude, In Appreciatively Grateful Sincerity Of Regret, He Declined.

You Get A Decent Do At The Brazen Head

[...] A Darkness Shining In Brightness Which Brightness Could Not Comprehend.

He Drew Forth A Phrase From His Treasure And Spoke It Softly To Himself: A Day Of Dappled Seaborne Clouds.