Earth in beauty dressed Awaits returning spring. All true love must die, Alter at the best Into some lesser thing. Prove that… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
For how can you compete Being honour bred, with one Who, were it proved he lies, Were neither shamed in his own… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
All that I have said and done, Now that I am old and ill, Turns into a question till I lie awake… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Though leaves are many, the root is one; Through all the lying days of my youth I swayed my leaves and flowers… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
And if joy were not on the earth, There were an end of change and birth, And Earth and Heaven and Hell… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
A statesman is an easy man, he tells his lies by rote. A journalist invents his lies, and rams them down your… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Bodies of holy men and women exude Miraculous oil, odour of violet. But under heavy loads of trampled clay Lie bodies of… — 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
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
