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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

Her Dream

I dreamed as in my bed I lay,
All night’s fathomless wisdom come,
That I had shorn my locks away
And laid them on Love’s lettered tomb:
But something bore them out of sight
In a great tumult of the air,
And after nailed upon the night
Berenice’s burning hair.

#Irish #NobelPrize

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On Woman

MAY God be praised for woman That gives up all her mind, A man may find in no man A friendship of her kind That covers all he has brought
The Ghost of Roger Casement

O WHAT has made that sudden nois… What on the threshold stands? It never crossed the sea because John Bull and the sea are friends… But this is not the old sea
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Me Peacock

WHAT’S riches to him That has made a great peacock With the pride of his eye? The wind-beaten, stone-grey, And desolate Three Rock
An Irish Airman Forsees His Death

I KNOW that I shall meet my fat… Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My county is Kiltartan Cross,
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The Everlasting Voices

O sweet everlasting Voices, be st… Go to the guards of the heavenly f… And bid them wander obeying your w… Flame under flame, till Time be n… Have you not heard that our hearts…
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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 w…
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On Those That Hated the ‘Playboy of the Western World,’ 1907

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
Solomon to Sheba

SANG Solomon to Sheba, And kissed her dusky face, ‘All day long from mid-day We have talked in the one place, All day long from shadowless noon
Death

Nor dread nor hope attend A dying animal; A man awaits his end Dreading and hoping all; Many times he died,
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Church and State

HERE is fresh matter, poet, Matter for old age meet; Might of the Church and the State… Their mobs put under their feet. O but heart’s wine shall run pure,
Anashuya and Vijaya

A little Indian temple in the Gol… that the forest. Anashuya, the you… temple. Anashuya. Send peace on all the l… O, may tranquillity walk by his el…
The Lover Mourns for the Loss of Love

Pale brows, still hands and dim ha… I had a beautiful friend And dreamed that the old despair Would end in love in the end: She looked in my heart one day
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No Second Troy

Why should I blame her that she f… With misery, or that she would of… Have taught to ignorant men most v… Or hurled the little streets upon… Had they but courage equal to desi…
The Seven Sages

The First. My great-grandfather s… In Grattan’s house. The Second. My great-grandfather… A pot-house bench with Oliver Gol… The Third. My great-grandfather’s…
The Dancer at Cruachan and Cro-Patrick

I, proclaiming that there is Among birds or beasts or men One that is perfect or at peace. Danced on Cruachan’s windy plain, Upon Cro-patrick sang aloud;



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