Brendan Kennelly - Works

Works

  • Cast a Cold Eye (1959) with Rudi Holzapfel
  • The Rain, the Moon (1961) with Rudi Holzapfel
  • The Dark About Our Loves (1962) Rudi Holzapfel
  • Green Townlands (1963). Rudi Holzapfel
  • Let Fall No Burning Leaf (1963)
  • The Crooked Cross (1963) novel
  • My Dark Fathers (1964)
  • Up and At It (1965)
  • Collection One: Getting Up Early (1966)
  • Good Souls to Survive (1967)
  • The Florentines (1967) novel
  • Dream of a Black Fox (1968)
  • Selected Poems (1969)
  • A Drinking Cup, Poems from the Irish (1970)
  • The Penguin Book of Irish Verse (19700 editor
  • Bread (1971)
  • Love Cry (1972)
  • Salvation, The Stranger (1972)
  • The Voices (1973)
  • Shelley in Dublin (1974)
  • A Kind of Trust (1975)
  • New and Selected Poems (1976)
  • Cromwell (1983)
  • Mary, from the Irish of Muireadach Albanach Ó Dálaigh (1987)
  • A Time for Voices: Selected Poems 1960-1990 (1990)
  • Euripides' Medea (1991)
  • The Book of Judas (1991)
  • Poetry Me Arse (1995)
  • The Man Made of Rain (1998)
  • The Singing Tree (1998)
  • Glimpses (2001)
  • The Little Book of Judas (2002)
  • Reservoir Voices (2009)
  • The Essential Brendan Kennelly: Selected Poems, Wake Forest University Press (2011)

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    “Night and Day ‘ve been tampered with,
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    That works its will on age and hour.”
    —Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)

    “My plan of instruction is extremely simple and limited. They learn, on week-days, such coarse works as may fit them for servants. I allow of no writing for the poor. My object is not to make fanatics, but to train up the lower classes in habits of industry and piety.”
    —Hannah More (1745–1833)

    “His character as one of the fathers of the English language would alone make his works important, even those which have little poetical merit. He was as simple as Wordsworth in preferring his homely but vigorous Saxon tongue, when it was neglected by the court, and had not yet attained to the dignity of a literature, and rendered a similar service to his country to that which Dante rendered to Italy.”
    —Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)