...I'm looking for the face I had, before the world was made... — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Odor of blood when Christ was slain Made all Platonic tolerance vain And vain all Doric discipline. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Death and life were not Till man made up the whole, Made lock, stock and barrel Out of his bitter soul — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
A man in his own secret meditation / Is lost amid the labyrinth that he has made / In art or politics. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The Father and His angelic hierarchy That made the magnitude and glory there Stood in the circuit of a needle's eye. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Irish poets, learn your trade, sing whatever is well made, scorn the sort now growing up all out of shape from toe… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I have read somewhere that in the Emperor's palace at Byzantium was a tree made of gold and silver, and artificial birds… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Where the world ends The mind is made unchanging, for it finds Miracle, ecstasy, the impossible hope, The flagstone under all, the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
For such, Being made beautiful overmuch, Consider beauty a sufficient end, Lose natural kindness and maybe The heart-revealing intimacy That chooses right,… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
If I make the lashes dark And the eyes more bright And the lips more scarlet, Or ask if all be right… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I can forgive even that wrong of wrongs, Those undreamt accidents that have made me Seeing that Fame has perished this long… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
All art that is not mere storytelling, or mere portraiture, is symbolic, and has the purpose of those symbolic talismans which medieval… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there; From joy the holy branches start, And all the trembling… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Had there been no Renaissance and no Italian influence to bring in the stories of other lands English history would, it may… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Now as to magic. It is surely absurd to hold me "weak" or otherwise because I choose to persist in a study… — 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
Why should I blame her that she filled my days With misery, or that she would of late Have taught to ignorant… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
...Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled Upon the wharves… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
When we are high and airy hundreds say That if we hold that flight they'll leave the place, While those same hundreds… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I hate journalists. There is nothing in them but tittering jeering emptiness. They have all made what Dante calls the Great Refusal.… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The chief imagination of Christendom, Dante Alighieri, so utterly found himself That he has made that hollow face of his More plain… — 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
