#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
I, THE poet William Yeats, With old mill boards and sea-green slate… And smithy work from the Gort forge, Restored this tower for my wife George; And may these characters remain
Earth in beauty dressed Awaits returning spring. All true love must die, Alter at the best Into some lesser thing.
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
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your fee…
There where the course is, Delight makes all of the one mind, The riders upon the galloping horses, The crowd that closes in behind: We, too, had good attendance once,
#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
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
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
I lived among great houses, Riches drove out rank, Base drove out the better blood, And mind and body shrank. No Oscar ruled the table,
Laughter not time destroyed my voice And put that crack in it, And when the moon’s pot-bellied I get a laughing fit, For that old Madge comes down the lane,
#1928 #TheTower
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,
Edain came out of Midhir’s hill, and la… Beside young Aengus in his tower of gla… Where time is drowned in odour-laden win… And Druid moons, and murmuring of bough… And sleepy boughs, and boughs where appl…
All things can tempt me from this craft… One time it was a woman’s face, or worse… The seeming needs of my fool-driven land… Now nothing but comes readier to the han… Than this accustomed toil. When I was y…
I went out alone To sing a song or two, My fancy on a man, And you know who. Another came in sight
WOULD I could cast a sail on the wate… Where many a king has gone And many a king’s daughter, And alight at the comely trees and the l… The playing upon pipes and the dancing,
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
