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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

A Cradle Song

The angels are stooping
Above your bed;
They weary of trooping
With the whimpering dead.
God’s laughing in Heaven
To see you so good;
The Sailing Seven
Are gay with His mood.
I sigh that kiss you,
For I must own
That I shall miss you
When you have grown.

#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury

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#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems

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In the Seven Woods

I HAVE heard the pigeons of the Seven… Make their faint thunder, and the garden… Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and put aw… The unavailing outcries and the old bitt… That empty the heart. I have forgot awh…

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The dews drop slowly and dreams gather;… Suddenly hurtle before my dream-awakened… And then the clash of fallen horsemen an… Of unknown perishing armies beat about m… We who still labour by the cromlech on t…

#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds

To His Heart, Bidding It Have No Fear

Be you still, be you still, trembling he… Remember the wisdom out of the old days: Him who trembles before the flame and th… And the winds that blow through the star… Let the starry winds and the flame and t…

#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds

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