When I play on my fiddle in Dooney Folk dance like a wave on the sea. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
My curse on plays That have to be set up in fifty ways, On the day's war with every knave and dolt,… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
May we two stand, When we are dead, beyond the setting suns, A little from other shades apart, With mingling hair, and… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Let the new faces play what tricks they will In the old rooms; night can outbalance day, Our shadows rove the garden… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The hare grows old as she plays in the sun And gazes around her with eyes of brightness; Before the swift things… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I--though heart might find relief Did I become a Christian man and choose for my belief What seems most welcome in the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
On the grey rock of Cashel I suddenly saw A Sphinx with woman breast and lion paw, A Buddha, hand at rest,… — 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
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
