Poeticous Logo
it
English Español Français Italiano
W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

A Deep-sworn Vow

OTHERS because you did not keep    
That deep-sworn vow have been friends of mine;    
Yet always when I look death in the face,    
When I clamber to the heights of sleep,    
Or when I grow excited with wine,      
Suddenly I meet your face.

#IrishWriters #NobelPrize

Ti è piaciuta questa lettura? Offriteci un caffè!.
Il tuo aiuto ci permette di esistere.
Altre opere di W. B. Yeats...
Death

Nor dread nor hope attend A dying animal; A man awaits his end Dreading and hoping all; Many times he died,
 3
The Fairy Pendant

Scene: A circle of Druidic sto… First Fairy: Afar from our lawn a… O sister of sorrowful gaze! Where the roses in scarlet are hea… And dream of the end of their days…
The Saint and the Hunchback

Hunchback. STAND up and lift yo… A man that finds great bitterness In thinking of his lost renown. A Roman Caesar is held down Under this hump.
 2
Alternative Song for the Severd Head in “The King of the Great Clock Tower”

SADDLE and ride, I heard a man… Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea… i{What says the Clock in the Grea… All those tragic characters ride But turn from Rosses’ crawling ti…
Two Songs Rewritten for the Tune’s Sake

My Paistin Finn is my sole desire… And I am shrunken to skin and bon… For all my heart has had for its h… Is what I can whistle alone and a… Oro, oro.!
 1
A Lover’s Quarrel Among the Fairies

A moonlight moor. Fairies lead… Male Fairies: Do not fear us, ear… We will lead you hand in hand By the willows in the glade, By the gorse on the high land,
 1
Crazy Jane Reproved

I care not what the sailors say: All those dreadful thunder-stones, All that storm that blots the day Can but show that Heaven yawns; Great Europa played the fool
The Wild Swans at Coole

The trees are in their autumn beau… The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the wa… Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the…
 1
The Lady’s First Song

I TURN round Like a dumb beast in a show. Neither know what I am Nor where I go, My language beaten
The Gyres

THE GYRES! the gyres! Old Roc… Things thought too long can be no… For beauty dies of beauty, worth o… And ancient lineaments are blotted… Irrational streams of blood are st…
On a Picture of a Black Centaur by Edmund Dulac

Your hooves have stamped at the bl… Even where horrible green parrots… My works are all stamped down into… I knew that horse-play, knew it fo… What wholesome sun has ripened is…
The Travail of Passion

When the flaming lute-thronged ang… When an immortal passion breathes… Our hearts endure the scourge, the… Crowded with bitter faces, the wou… The vinegar-heavy sponge, the flow…
A Thought From Propertius

SHE might, so noble from head To great shapely knees The long flowing line, Have walked to the altar Through the holy images
Supernatural Songs

Ribb at the Tomb of Baile and Ai… BECAUSE you have found me in th… With open book you ask me what I… Mark and digest my tale, carry it… To those that never saw this tonsu…
Youth and Age

Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.



Alto