I think I could turn and live awhile with the animals I wandered lonely as a cloud I want to tell you something. In cool noon light, on the edge of spring, In moving-slow he has no Peer.
Some people are flower lovers.
Stop looking like a purse. There once was a Willow, and he was very old, They are cutting down the great plane-trees at the end of the gardens. Thou hearest the nightingale begin the song of spring. The three young boys returned to Ireland in 1933 as the Great Depression hit and John was brought up by two spinster aunts at Garvaghey. He did well at school and won a scholarship to St Patrick s College Armagh where he was encouraged to study Ulster folksong and Irish poetry by his teacher Sean O Boyle.