W. T. Quirk – Manx Poet & Writer

Over the midnight wave

A starry carpet is spread;

Starry flowers on the grave

Where a day lies dead.

 ...

There’s a harmony in summer of a rich and perfect blend;

Though its cadences descend

In a long chromatic scale,...

Here within this country chapel,

Small and bare and dimly lit,

Quiet save for tick and rappel

Of the watching ...

Blue sky and golden sun,

The scent o’ new-mown hay,

And a parcel o’ fun

When the work is done...

I do not know a sweeter sound

Than rain upon the thirsty ground;

A lovelier sight I’ll never see

Than ...

The smoke curled lazily

To sky that seemed asleep,

In still air hazily

The far hills melted deep,

Blurred with ...

Cold ashen light in the valley,

Rose-pink above it and grey,

Pale with the advent of twilight,

Sad with the ...

Skipping lightly on the green,

Weaving patterns out and in,

Children taking hands are seen

Under summer skies.

In the ...

(After Catullus, the Roman lyrical poet)

To me he seems a god, no less,

Who on the headland pensive stands,...

Over the hushed glen

A quiet spirit broods;

Far from haunts of men

Is its solitudes.

Gaunt trees stand on ...

A medal pinned upon the breast

Is heroism self-confessed

For all the world to see;

No thoughts of meekness animate...

The church bells have been pealing and are hushed:

Their call to worship fell like fragrant dew

Upon rich meadow ...

Tendrils that cunningly twist on the tree,

Threading in sinuous curls in the leaves;

Clasping in breathless abandon to be...

The shamrock leaf on Patrick’s Day

Reminds us all to pray

To father, Son and Holy Ghost,

To pray for ...

Old water mill, thy lumbering wheel

Still turns in heavy majesty;

Its measured movement may reveal

The sure approach of ...

(After the Spanish of El Marques de Santillana)

No maiden so fair in the valleys I see,

No maiden so ...

(From the French of Victor Hugo)

All alone beside the waves

I stood one starry night,

A cloudless sky was ...

It is most good to feel

Flung salt-spray on the face,

For life becomes more real

When the pulse is ...

In summer, when the sun is high

And thoughts are turned to holiday.

When daylight lingers in the sky,

And ...

Who told the lovely flower to grow

With petals six and horn of golden frill?

Who is the artist such ...

In the fall of the night when the rocks lay a-sleeping

And the waves gently fondled the slumberous shore,

When ...

When flowers of June are in their prime

And hollyhocks and roses climb,

Delphiniums blue

Rival the sky,

And sunflowers ...

It is just a little cottage

That is thatched with yellow straw,

And it nestles in the hollow by the ...

Voices in the night air when dusk has descended,

Coming with sweet clarity across the still water,

Bring to my ...

We have sung the old Missouri

And the Mississippi too;

We have sung the Minnetonka,

We have sung the Danube ...

Rain on the window and the lone wind sighing,

Sighing in the branches of the gaunt old elm-tree;

Sighing and ...

My saucy youth derides my sober age,

Mocking, haunting, refusing to be stilled:

That which was me, and wholly me, ...

Dead is the sky above the frozen ridge,

And icy as the hand of death the breeze;

Drawn on the ...

(From the Spanish of Francisco de Rioja)

Carnation, envy of Aurora,

Deepest flame of all the flowers,

On thy birth ...

Whether we wish it,

Whether or no,

Someone will come to us,

Someone will go;

Someone will love us,

Someone ...