Give to these children, new from the world, Rest far from men. Is anything better, anything better? Tell us it then. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
No man has ever lived that had enough of children's gratitude or woman's love. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I have known more men destroyed by the desire to have wife and child and to keep them in comfort than I… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Once more the storm is howling, and half hid Under this cradle-hood and coverlid My child sleeps on. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Come away, O human child: To the waters and the wild with a fairy, hand in hand, For the world's more full… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Yet they that know all things but know That all this life can give us is A child's laughter, a woman's kiss. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I have certainly known more men destroyed by the desire to have a wife and child and to keep them in comfort… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
But O, sick children of the world, Of all the many changing things In dreary dancing past us whirled, To the cracked… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Let the minor genius go his light way and enjoy his life - the great nature cannot so live, he is never… — 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… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The Danaan children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold, And clap their hands together, and half close their eyes, For they will… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream? For these red lips, with all their mournful pride, Mournful that no new wonder… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Although our love is waning, let us stand by the lone border of the lake once more, together in that hour of… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
To sit beside the board and drink good wine And watch the turf smoke coiling from the fire And feel content and… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard A voice singing on a May Eve like this, And followed half awake and… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“Children play at being great and wonderful people, at the ambitions they will put away for one reason or another before they… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“THE STOLEN CHILD Where dips the rocky highland Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy island Where flapping herons… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“The Song Of The Happy Shepherd The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world… — 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
