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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

The 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
Would nourish his whim.
Live he or die
Amid wet rocks and heather,
His ghost will be gay
Adding feather to feather
For the pride of his eye.

#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury

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Altre opere di W. B. Yeats...
The Lover Mourns for the Loss of Love

Pale brows, still hands and dim hair, 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

#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds

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A Drinking Song

Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That’s all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die. I lift the glass to my mouth,

#1910 #RhymedStanza #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems

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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,

He Thinks of His Past Greatness When a Part of the Constellations of Heaven

I have drunk ale from the Country of th… And weep because I know all things now: I have been a hazel-tree, and they hung The Pilot Star and the Crooked Plough Among my leaves in times out of mind:

#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds

Presences

THIS night has been so strange that it… As if the hair stood up on my head. From going-down of the sun I have dream… That women laughing, or timid or wild, In rustle of lace or silken stuff,

John Kinsella’s Lament for Mr. Mary Moore

A BLOODY and a sudden end, Gunshot or a noose, For Death who takes what man would keep… Leaves what man would lose. He might have had my sister,

In Memory of Eva Gore-Booth and Con Markiewicz

The light of evening, Lissadell, Great windows open to the south, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle. But a raving autumn shears

#1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems

Girl’s Song

I went out alone To sing a song or two, My fancy on a man, And you know who. Another came in sight

The Wheel

Through winter-time we call on spring, And through the spring on summer call, And when abounding hedges ring Declare that winter’s best of all; And after that there’s nothing good

#1928 #TheTower

The Mother of God

The threefold terror of love; a fallen f… Through the hollow of an ear; Wings beating about the room; The terror of all terrors that I bore The Heavens in my womb.

#1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems

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Old Memory

O THOUGHT, fly to her when the end o… Awakens an old memory, and say, ‘Your strength, that is so lofty and fie… It might call up a new age, calling to m… The queens that were imagined long ago,

The Valley of the Black Pig

The dews drop slowly and dreams gather;… Suddenly hurtle before my dream-awakened… And then the clash of fallen horsemen an… Of unknown perishing armies beat about m… We who still labour by the cromlech on t…

#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds

Baile and Aillinn

ARGUMENT. Baile and Aillinn were l… Master of Love, wishing them to he happ… among the dead, told to each a story of… that their hearts were broken and they d… I HARDLY hear the curlew cry,

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

Introductory Lines (The Shadowy Waters)

I walked among the seven woods of Coole… Shan-walla, where a willow-hordered pond Gathers the wild duck from the winter da… Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no, Where many hundred squirrels are as happ…




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