Poems by Patrick Kavanagh
A Star
... Save a grey ghost-hill ...
Gospel
... We shall not drink from the stink-pots ...
Innocence
... I cannot die Unless I walk outside these whitethorn hedges ...
The Great Hunger
... And there was depth in his jaw and his voice was the voice of a great cattle-dealer, ...
Having To Live in the Country
... Somewhat educated who has to believe that these people have souls ...
To the Man After the Harrow
... For you are driving your horses through ...
April Dusk
... An unmusical ploughboy whistles down the lane ...
On Raglan Road
... With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May ...
