I cast my heart into my rhymes, That you, in the dim coming times, May know how my heart went with them… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I thought of rhyme alone, For rhyme can beat a measure out of trouble And make the daylight sweet once more. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
From dream to dream and rhyme to rhyme I have ranged / In rambling talk with an image of air: / Vague… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“And now he is singing a bard's curse upon you, O brother abbot, and upon your father and your mother, and your… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
In mockery I have set A powerful emblem up, And sing it rhyme upon rhyme In mockery of a time Half dead… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes, The poets labouring all their days To build a perfect beauty in rhyme Are overthrown by a… — 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 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
