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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

Maid Quiet

Where has Maid Quiet gone to,
Nodding her russet hood?
The winds that awakened the stars
Are blowing through my blood.
O how could I be so calm
When she rose up to depart?
Now words that called up the lightning
Are hurtling through my heart.

#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds

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The Lover’s Song

BIRD sighs for the air, Thought for I know not where, For the womb the seed sighs. Now sinks the same rest On mind, on nest,

Beggar to Beggar Cried

‘TIME to put off the world and go some… And find my health again in the sea air,… Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-str… ‘And make my soul before my pate is bare… ’And get a comfortable wife and house

The Stolen Child

Where dips the rocky highland Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy island Where flapping herons wake The drowsy water rats;

#1889 #TheWanderingsOfOisinAndOtherPoems

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Lapis Lazuli

(For Harry Clifton) I HAVE heard that hysterical women say They are sick of the palette and fiddle-… Of poets that are always gay, For everybody knows or else should know

 1
An Irish Airman Forsees His Death

I KNOW that I shall meet my fate 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,

 1
A Prayer for Old Age

GOD guard me from those thoughts men th… In the mind alone; He that sings a lasting song Thinks in a marrow-bone; From all that makes a wise old man

He Gives His Beloved Certain Rhymes

Fasten your hair with a golden pin, And bind up every wandering tress; I bade my heart build these poor rhymes: It worked at them, day out, day in, Building a sorrowful loveliness

#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds

The Hawk

‘CALL down the hawk from the air; Let him be hooded or caged Till the yellow eye has grown mild, For larder and spit are bare, The old cook enraged,

At Algeciras - a Meditaton Upon Death

The heron-billed pale cattle-birds That feed on some foul parasite Of the Moroccan flocks and herds Cross the narrow Straits to light In the rich midnight of the garden trees

#1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems

Where my Books go

ALL the words that I utter, And all the words that I write, Must spread out their wings untiring, And never rest in their flight, Till they come where your sad, sad heart…

 2
The Chambermaid’s Second Song

From pleasure of the bed, Dull as a worm, His rod and its butting head Limp as a worm, His spirit that has fled

The Winding Stair

My Soul. I summon to the winding ancie… Set all your mind upon the steep ascent, Upon the broken, crumbling battlement, Upon the breathless starlit air, 'Upon the star that marks the hidden pol…

 1
The Fascination of What’s Difficult

The fascination of what’s difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and r… Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart. There’s something ails… That must, as if it had not holy blood

#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems

 2
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 deer w… I have been changed to a hound with one… I have been in the Path of Stones and t… For somebody hid hatred and hope and des… Under my feet that they follow you night…

#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds

 2
High Talk

PROCESSIONS that lack high stilts h… What if my great-granddad had a pair tha… And mine were but fifteen foot, no moder… Some rogue of the world stole them to pa… Because piebald ponies, led bears, caged…




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