For men were born to pray and save: Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Out of Ireland have we come, great hatred, little room, maimed us at the start. I carry from my mother's womb a… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Fairies in Ireland are sometimes as big as we are, sometimes bigger, and sometimes, as I have been told, about three feet… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“Romantic Ireland's dead and gone It's with O' Leary in the grave (September 1913)” — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Was it for this the wild geese spread The gray wing upon every tide; For this that all that blood was shed,… — 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
We are no petty people. We are one of the great stocks of Burke; we are the people of Swift, the people… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
THAT crazed girl improvising her music. Her poetry, dancing upon the shore, Her soul in division from itself Climbing, falling She knew… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“ The Lake Isle of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there,… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“Chance and Destiny have between them woven two-thirds of all history, and of the history of Ireland wellnigh the whole. The literature… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“The Celt, and his cromlechs, and his pillar-stones, these will not change much – indeed, it is doubtful if anybody at all… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Come, fix upon me that accusing eye. I thirst for accusation. All that was sung. All that was said in Ireland is… — 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
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
