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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

He Reproves the Curlew

O curlew, cry no more in the air,
Or only to the water in the West;
Because your crying brings to my mind
passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair
That was shaken out over my breast:
There is enough evil in the crying of wind.

#1899 #IrishWriters #TheWindAmongTheReeds

Autres oeuvres par W. B. Yeats...
He Bids His Beloved Be at Peace

I hear the Shadowy Horses, their… Their hoofs heavy with tumult, the… The North unfolds above them clin… The East her hidden joy before th… The West weeps in pale dew and si…
 2
The Fiddler of Dooney

When I play on my fiddle in Doone… Folk dance like a wave of the sea; My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet, My brother in Mocharabuiee. I passed my brother and cousin:
 1
The Attack on The “Play Boy”

Once, when midnight smote the air, Eunuchs ran through Hell and met On every crowded street to stare Upon great Juan riding by: Even like these to rail and sweat
The Blessed

Cumhal called out, bending his hea… Till Dathi came and stood, With a blink in his eyes, at the c… Between the wind and the wood. And Cumhal said, bending his knee…
 1
Three Songs to the One Burden

THE Roaring Tinker if you like, But Mannion is my name, And I beat up the common sort And think it is no shame. The common breeds the common,
The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner

ALTHOUGH I shelter from the ra… Under a broken tree My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics,
 2
The Lady’s Third Song

WHEN you and my true lover meet And he plays tunes between your fe… Speak no evil of the soul, Nor think that body is the whole, For I that am his daylight lady
He Mourns for the Change that Has Come Upon Him and His Beloved, and Longs for the End of the World

Do you not hear me calling, white… I have been changed to a hound wit… I have been in the Path of Stones… For somebody hid hatred and hope a… Under my feet that they follow you…
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A Man Young and Old: IX. the Secrets of the Old

I have old women’s secrets now That had those of the young; Madge tells me what I dared not t… When my blood was strong, And what had drowned a lover once
To a Young Beauty

DEAR fellow-artist, why so free With every sort of company, With every Jack and Jill? Choose your companions from the be… Who draws a bucket with the rest
The Winding Stair

My Soul. I summon to the winding… Set all your mind upon the steep a… Upon the broken, crumbling battlem… Upon the breathless starlit air, 'Upon the star that marks the hidd…
 1
Lines Written in Dejection

WHEN have I last looked on The round green eyes and the long… Of the dark leopards of the moon? All the wild witches, those most n… For all their broom-sticks and the…
Rosa Alchemica

It is now more than ten years since I met, for the last time, Michael Robartes, and for the first time and the last time his friends and fellow students; and witnessed his and their tra...
The Sad Shepherd

There was a man whom Sorrow named… And he, of his high comrade Sorro… Went walking with slow steps along… And humming Sands, where windy su… And he called loudly to the stars…
Coole Park, 1929

I meditate upon a swallow’s flight… Upon a aged woman and her house, A sycamore and lime-tree lost in n… Although that western cloud is lum… Great works constructed there in n…



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