Alice Guerin Crist

(6 February 1876 - 13 June 1941 / Clare Castle)

Alice Guerin Crist Poems

1. The Courtship Of Young John 4/5/2010
2. The Old Days - And The New 4/5/2010
3. The Way Of The Bush 4/5/2010
4. The Young Rebel 4/5/2010
5. West Of Fanny O'Dea's 4/5/2010
6. When Rody Came To Ironbark 4/5/2010
7. The Voyage 4/5/2010
8. The Latest Martyr (Mexico 1926) 4/5/2010
9. The Ride Of Rody Burke 4/5/2010
10. The Silver Box 4/5/2010
11. The Water-Witch 4/5/2010
12. The First School Day 4/5/2010
13. Old Tin Liz 1/1/2004
14. Grass 4/5/2010
15. Himself 4/5/2010
16. Homesick 4/5/2010
17. In Winter 4/5/2010
18. Milestones 4/5/2010
19. Sixty Years Ago 4/5/2010
20. Brother Wind 4/5/2010
21. Christmas Welcome 4/5/2010
22. “o’shea” 4/5/2010
23. Bid Mccrae 4/5/2010
24. O’grady’s Little Girl 4/5/2010
25. November In Ireland 1/1/2004
26. A Song Of Delight 4/5/2010
27. Croquet 4/5/2010
28. Murtagh The Cobbler 4/5/2010
29. A Young Rebel 4/5/2010
30. Adventure 4/5/2010
31. The Banshee 4/5/2010
32. A Letter From Palestine 4/5/2010
33. Enniskillen 4/5/2010
34. Resurrection 1/1/2004
35. Fairies 4/5/2010
36. A Dream Of Heaven 4/5/2010
37. Afterglow 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Alice Guerin Crist

Afterglow

A magic wrought of dying dreams
A wizard light that creeps and glows;
Painting grey hills and sluggish streams
In tints of gold and rose

Staining with fire the cherry-snow
Lighting our hearts with sudden flame
As if the love of long ago
Back from its ashes came

Rose-flushed and radiant everything
And joy and hope are born anew;
Even the darting swallow's wing
Has caught its glowing hue

Ah! swift it dies from hill and plain...
Be wise dear heart and let me go;
Not love that lit our hearts again -
Only it's afterglow!

Read the full of Afterglow

“o’shea”

O’Shea was a big railway ganger, clean-hearted, and clean-limbed and shy,
With a glint of grey hair at his temples, and smile in his Irish blue eye;
He’d but one speech for every occasion, as you told him the news of the day,
And I know I will shock pious people-but poor Tim meant no harm when he’s say.
“Aw! g’long, go-to-hell, go-to-hell now! In a mildly expostulant way.

Oft the boys told, with winking and laughter, how O’Shea courted early in life
The dashing and voluble lady who’d mak

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