I spent my days at tis, I te, for I remember often putting off er ing some necessary book because I sing talogue; and yet to save money for my afternoon coffee and roll I often o Bedford Park. I ion from ts t   some tor, you must never again pay so mucy; but I did not the work for my own purposes.

    t to Sligo every summer, I o live out of Ireland ter part of every year and  keeping my mind upon  be t matter of my poetry. I believed t if Morris  ories amid to be of elsraction and supposed

    if Stis ered more intimately, more microscopically, as it o our t, and o modern poetry a breadtability like t of ancient poetry. tatues of Mausolus and Artemisia at tise, es and Egyptian kings in t stand in t above measuring it out unpersuadable justice, became to me, noer, images of an unpremeditated joyous energy, t neit and enquiry, can ac yet, if once ac seem to men and udy of t ruined tomb, raised by a queen to  sculptors after ale,  distinguiseles; and I ed to create once more an art, s  in some old Scots ballads or in some teentury Art yred no man for modelling ook great pleasure in certain allusions to t  because  , like portly Cion of a famisy to remember t in   old ballad singer  tle ? So masterful indeed  instinct t   of singers, ans;A blind man;  beautiful for ever.quot; Elaborate modern psycistical, I t,  person, but not tions o e many poems o a general pattern of myt says t  e, dear Ireland, and sorroradition, and if  move us deeply, it is because  comes at need