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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

A Man Young and Old: III. the Mermaid

A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.

#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1928 #TheTower

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Other works by W. B. Yeats...
Upon a Dying Lady

Her Courtesy WITH the old kindness, the old disting… She lies, her lovely piteous head amid d… Propped upon pillows, rouge on the pallo… She would not have us sad because she is…

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The Valley of the Black Pig

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

A Man Young and Old: II. Human Dignity

Like the moon her kindness is, If kindness I may call What has no comprehension in’t, But is the same for all As though my sorrow were a scene

#1928 #TheTower

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Cuchulain Comforted

A MAN that had six mortal wounds, a ma… Violent and famous, strode among the dea… Eyes stared out of the branches and were… Then certain Shrouds that muttered head… Came and were gone. He leant upon a tr…

The Mother of God

The threefold terror of love; a fallen f… Through the hollow of an ear; Wings beating about the room; The terror of all terrors that I bore The Heavens in my womb.

#1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems

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A Prayer for my Son

Bid a strong ghost stand at the head That my Michael may sleep sound, Nor cry, nor turn in the bed Till his morning meal come round; And may departing twilight keep

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In Memory of Eva Gore-Booth and Con Markiewicz

The light of evening, Lissadell, Great windows open to the south, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle. But a raving autumn shears

#1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems

Brown Penny

I WHISPERED, ‘I am too young,’ And then, 'I am old enough’; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. ‘Go and love, go and love, young man,

 2
Consolation

O but there is wisdom In what the sages said; But stretch that body for a while And lay down that head Till I have told the sages

To a Shade

IF you have revisited the town, thin Sh… Whether to look upon your monument (I wonder if the builder has been paid) Or happier-thoughted when the day is spe… To drink of that salt breath out of the…

Cuchulain’s Fight With the Sea

A man came slowly from the setting sun, To Emer, raddling raiment in her dun, And said, “I am that swineherd whom you… Go watch the road between the wood and t… But now I have no need to watch it more…

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 blossom

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The Song of Wandering Aengus

I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing,

#1899 #Ballad #RhymedStanza #TheWindAmongTheReeds

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The Nineteenth Century and After

Though the great song return no more There’s keen delight in what we have: The rattle of pebbles on the shore Under the receding wave.

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The Hour Before Dawn

A CURSING rogue with a merry face, A bundle of rags upon a crutch, Stumbled upon that windy place Called Cruachan, and it was as much As the one sturdy leg could do




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