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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

Her Anxiety

Earth in beauty dressed
Awaits returning spring.
All true love must die,
Alter at the best
Into some lesser thing.
Prove that I lie.
 
Such body lovers have,
Such exacting breath,
That they touch or sigh.
Every touch they give,
Love is nearer death.
Prove that I lie.

#Irish #NobelPrize

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Altre opere di W. B. Yeats...
In Memory of Major Robert Gregory

NOW that we’re almost settled in… I’ll name the friends that cannot… Beside a fire of turf in the ancie… And having talked to some late hou… Climb up the narrow winding stair…
The Double Vision of Michael Robartes

ON the grey rock of Cashel the mi… Has called up the cold spirits tha… When the old moon is vanished from… And the new still hides her horn. Under blank eyes and fingers never…
The Dawn

I WOULD be ignorant as the dawn That has looked down On that old queen measuring a town With the pin of a brooch, Or on the withered men that saw
The Ballad of Moll Magee

Come round me, little childer; There, don’t fling stones at me Because I mutter as I go; But pity Moll Magee. My man was a poor fisher
Coole Park and Ballylee, 1931

Under my window-ledge the waters r… Otters below and moor-hens on the… Run for a mile undimmed in Heaven… Then darkening through 'dark’ Raf… Run underground, rise in a rocky p…
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A Nativity

WHAT woman hugs her infant there… Another star has shot an ear. What made the drapery glisten so? Not a man but Delacroix. What made the ceiling waterproof?
A Drunken Man’s Praise of Sobriety

COME swish around, my pretty pun… And keep me dancing still That I may stay a sober man Although I drink my fill. Sobriety is a jewel
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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Down by the Salley Gardens

Down by the salley gardens my love… She passed the salley gardens with… She bid me take love easy, as the… But I, being young and foolish, w… In a field by the river my love an…
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The New Faces

If you, that have grown old, were… Neither catalpa tree nor scented l… Should hear my living feet, nor wo… Where we wrought that shall break… Let the new faces play what tricks…
The Wanderings of Oisin: Book I

S. Patrick. You who are bent, and… With a heavy heart and a wandering… Have known three centuries, poets… Of dalliance with a demon thing. Oisin. Sad to remember, sick with…
A Meditation in Time of War

FOR one throb of the artery, While on that old grey stone I Sa… Under the old wind-broken tree, I knew that One is animate, Mankind inanimate fantasy’.
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Peace

Ah, that Time could touch a form That could show what Homer’s age Bred to be a hero’s wage. ‘Were not all her life but storm, Would not painters paint a form
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The Delphic Oracle Upon Plotinus

Behold that great Plotinus swim, Buffeted by such seas; Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him, But the Golden Race looks dim, Salt blood blocks his eyes.
The Nineteenth Century and After

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



Alto