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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

Old Tom Again

Things out of perfection sail,
And all their swelling canvas wear,
Nor shall the self-begotten fail
Though fantastic men suppose
Building-yard and stormy shore,
Winding-sheet and swaddling - clothes.

#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury

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Other works by W. B. Yeats...
Under Ben Bulben

Swear by what the sages spoke Round the Mareotic Lake That the Witch of Atlas knew, Spoke and set the cocks a-crow. Swear by those horsemen, by those…
After Long Silence

Speech after long silence; it is r… All other lovers being estranged o… Unfriendly lamplight hid under its… The curtains drawn upon unfriendly… That we descant and yet again desc…
 3
A Friend’s Illness

Sickness brought me this Thought, in that scale of his: Why should I be dismayed Though flame had burned the whole World, as it were a coal,
Gratitude to the Unknown Instructors

What they undertook to do They brought to pass; All things hang like a drop of dew Upon a blade of grass.
 1
We, who seven years ago

We, who seven years ago Talked of honour and of truth, Shriek with pleasure if we show The weasel’s twist, the weasel’s t…
The Attack on “The Playboy of the Western World”, 1907

Once, when midnight smote the air, Eunuchs ran through Hell and met From thoroughfare to thoroughfare, While that great Juan galloped by… And like these to rail and sweat
Imitated From the Japanese

A MOST astonishing thing— Seventy years have I lived; (Hurrah for the flowers of Spring… For Spring is here again.) Seventy years have I lived
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…
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 r… It worked at them, day out, day in… Building a sorrowful loveliness
The Folly of Being Comforted

ONE that is ever kind said yester… ‘Your well-beloved’s hair has thre… And little shadows come about her… Time can but make it easier to be… Though now it seems impossible, an…
 1
The Rose of the World

WHO dreamed that beauty passes li… For these red lips, with all their… Mournful that no new wonder may be… Troy passed away in one high funer… And Usna’s children died.
To a Squirrel at Kyle-na-gno

COME play with me; Why should you run Through the shaking tree As though I’d a gun To strike you dead?
Friends

Now must I these three praise— Three women that have wrought What joy is in my days: One because no thought, Nor those unpassing cares,
The Spur

YOU think it horrible that lust a… Should dance attention upon my old… They were not such a plague when… What else have I to spur me into…
To Dorothy Wellesley

STRETCH towards the moonless mi… As though that hand could reach to… And they but famous old upholsteri… Delightful to the touch; tighten t… As though to draw them closer yet.



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