Abstract
F rom Riversdale the road continues in easy ascent towards the mountains and gives many views of the bay. Here, though so close to Dublin, Yeats was in the midst of scenes truly pleasing to the eye of contemplation—farms and winding streams and old demesnes. The previous tenant of his small neat house, some good garden-lover, had planned and nursed and brought to perfection the four acres upon which it stood. Nothing was missing from the miniature estate; neither orchard nor velvet croquet lawn (crocket in Yeats’ odd spelling), neither rose nor well-stocked kitchen garden, neither herbaceous border nor little field.
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© 1962 Anne Yeats and Michael B. Yeats
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Hone, J. (1962). Riversdale. In: W. B. Yeats, 1865–1939. Palgrave Macmillan, London. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-20309-3_19
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DOI: https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-20309-3_19
Publisher Name: Palgrave Macmillan, London
Print ISBN: 978-0-333-49754-8
Online ISBN: 978-1-349-20309-3
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