Maybe the bride-bed brings despair, For each an imagined image brings And finds a real image there... — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The true poet is all the time a visionary and whether with friends or not, as much alone as a man on… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day; For half his flock were in their beds, Or under green sods… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
What were all the world's alarms To mighty Paris when he found Sleep upon a golden bed That first dawn in Helen's… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Fair and foul are near of kin And fair needs foul," I cried. "My friends are gone, but that's a truth Nor… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
even The bed of love, that in the imagination Had seemed to be the giver of all peace, Is no more than… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Many times man lives and dies Betweeen his two eternities, That of race and that of soul, And ancient Ireland knew it… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
But boys and girls, pale from the imagined love Of solitary beds, knew what they were, That passion could bring character enough… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow; And then I… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I would have touched it like a child But knew my finger could but have touched Cold stone and water. I grew wild, Even… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
You know what the Englishman's idea of compromise is? He says, Some people say there is a God. Some people say there is no… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast, Drowning love's lonely hour… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
That toil of growing up; The ignominy of boyhood; the distress Of boyhood changing into man; The unfinished man and his pain. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I see a schoolboy when I think of him, With face and nose pressed to a sweet-shop window. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Only God, my dear, Could love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I know that I shall meet my fate somewhere among the clouds above; those that I fight I do not hate, those that I… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Great literature has always been written in a like spirit, and is, indeed, the Forgiveness of Sin, and when we find it becoming the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Where the wave of moonlight glosses The dim gray sands with light, Far off by furthest Rosses We foot it all the night, Weaving… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
His element is so fine Being sharpened by his death, To drink from the wine-breath While our gross palates drink from the whole wine. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
