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Jeremiah Lamenting the Destruction of Jerusalem, by Rembrandt
W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

The Coming of Wisdom With Time
Though leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither into the truth.

#IrishWriters #NobelPrize #1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems

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Owen Aherne and His Dancers

A strange thing surely that my hea… Upon the Norman upland or in that… Should find no burden but itself a… It could not bear that burden and… The south wind brought it longing,…
The Withering of the Boughs

I CRIED when the moon was mutmu… ‘Let peewit call and curlew cry wh… I long for your merry and tender a… For the roads are unending, and th… The honey-pale moon lay low on the…
The Phases of the Moon

AN old man cocked his ear upon a… He and his friend, their faces to… Had trod the uneven road. Their b… Their Connemara cloth worn out of… They had kept a steady pace as tho…
Among School Children

I walk through the long schoolroom… A kind old nun in a white hood rep… The children learn to cipher and t… To study reading-books and histori… To cut and sew, be neat in everyth…
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To a Friend Whose Work Has Come to Nothing

NOW all the truth is out, Be secret and take defeat From any brazen throat, For how can you compete, Being honour bred, with one
The Hero, The Girl, and The Fool

I rage at my own image in the glas… That’s so unlike myself that when… It is as though you praised anothe… Mocked me with praise of my mere o… And when I wake towards morn I dr…
The Lover Tells of the Rose in His Heart

All things uncomely and broken, al… The cry of a child by the roadway,… The heavy steps of the ploughman,… Are wronging your image that bloss… The wrong of unshapely things is a…
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Men Improve With the Years

I AM worn out with dreams; A weather-worn, marble triton Among the streams; And all day long I look Upon this lady’s beauty
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At Algeciras

The heron-billed pale cattle-birds That feed on some foul parasite Of the Moroccan flocks and herds Cross the narrow Straits to light In the rich midnight of the garden…
The Happy Townland

THERE’S many a strong farmer Whose heart would break in two, If he could see the townland That we are riding to; Boughs have their fruit and blosso…
Sailing to Byzantium

That is no country for old men. T… In one another’s arms, birds in th… —Those dying generations—at their… The salmon—falls, the mackerel—cro… Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all…
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He Remembers Forgotten Beauty

When my arms wrap you round I pre… My heart upon the loveliness That has long faded from the world… The jewelled crowns that kings hav… In shadowy pools, when armies fled…
The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to… And a small cabin build there, of… Nine bean-rows will I have there,… And live alone in the bee-loud gla… And I shall have some peace there…
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O Do Not Love Too Long

SWEETHEART, do not love too l… I loved long and long, And grew to be out of fashion Like an old song. All through the years of our youth
The Madness of King Goll

I sat on cushioned otter-skin: My word was law from Ith to Emain… And shook at Inver Amergin The hearts of the world-troubling… And drove tumult and war away



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