And pluck till time and times are done the silver apples of the moon the golden apples of the sun. — 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
I have nothing but the embittered sun; Banished heroic mother moon and vanished, And now that I have come to fifty years… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I had this thought a while ago, "My darling cannot understand What I have done, or what would do In this blind… — 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
Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill: For there the mystical brotherhood Of sun and moon and hollow and wood And… — 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
somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
A sea captain when he stands upon the bridge, or looks out from his deck-house, thinks much about God and about the… — 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
