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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

To a Poet, Who Would Have Me Praise Certain Bad Poets, Imitators of His and Mine

You say, as I have often given tongue
In praise of what another’s said or sung,
’Twere politic to do the like by these;
But was there ever dog that praised his fleas?

#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems

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Otras obras de W. B. Yeats...
The Arrow

I THOUGHT of your beauty, and… Made out of a wild thought, is in… There’s no man may look upon her,… As when newly grown to be a woman, Tall and noble but with face and b…
In Memory of Alfred Pollexfen

FIVE-AND-TWENTY years have g… Since old William Pollexfen Laid his strong bones down in deat… By his wife Elizabeth In the grey stone tomb he made.
The Witch

TOIL and grow rich, What’s that but to lie With a foul witch And after, drained dry, To be brought
On Those That Hated 'The Playboy of the Western World’

ONCE, when midnight smote the ai… Eunuchs ran through Hell and met On every crowded street to stare Upon great Juan riding by: Even like these to rail and sweat
The Green Helmet

Scene: A house made of logs. There are two windows at the back and a door which cuts off one of the corners of the room. Through the door one can see low rocks which make the ground out...
A Model for the Laureate

ON thrones from China to Peru All sorts of kings have sat That men and women of all sorts proclaimed both good and great; And what’s the odds if such as the…
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An Image From a Past Life

He. Never until this night have I… The elaborate starlight throws a r… On the dark stream, Till all the eddies gleam; And thereupon there comes that scr…
Peace

Ah, but Time has touched a form That could show what Homer’s age Bred to be a hero’s wage. ‘Were not all her life but storm, Would not painters paint a form
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 Fisherman

Although I can see him still, The freckled man who goes To a grey place on a hill In grey Connemara clothes At dawn to cast his flies,
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Responsibilities - Introduction

Pardon, old fathers, if you still… Somewhere in ear-shot for the stor… Old Dublin merchant “free of the… Or trading out of Galway into Spa… Old country scholar, Robert Emmet…
A Thought From Propertius

SHE might, so noble from head To great shapely knees The long flowing line, Have walked to the altar Through the holy images
September

WHAT need you, being come to sen… But fumble in a greasy till And add the halfpence to the pence And prayer to shivering prayer, un… You have dried the marrow from the…
Those Images

WHAT if I bade you leave The cavern of the mind? There’s better exercise In the sunlight and wind. I never bade you go
A Woman Young and Old

FATHER AND CHILD SHE hears me strike the board and… That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being mentioned with a man



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