“The Song Of The Happy Shepherd The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“O SWEET everlasting Voices, be still; Go to the guards of the heavenly fold And bid them wander obeying your will, Flame… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
All that we did, all that we said or sang Must come from contact with the soil, from that Contact everything Antaeus-like… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Time can but make it easier to be wise / Though now it seems impossible, and so / All that you need is patience. — 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
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
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
But O, sick children of the world, Of all the many changing things In dreary dancing past us whirled, To the cracked… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
A line will take us hours maybe; Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
O sweet everlasting Voices, be still; Go to the guards of the heavenly fold And bid them wander obeying your will, Flame… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Mysticism has been in the past and probably ever will be one of the great powers of the world, and it is… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics, Ere Time transfigured me. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Everything that man esteems Endures a moment or a day. Love's pleasure drives his love away, The painter's brush consumes his dreams. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I think it better that in times like these a poet's mouth be silent, for in truth we have no gift to… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Boughs have their fruit and blossom At all times of the year; Rivers are running over With red beer and brown beer. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
And God stands winding His lonely horn, And time and the world are ever in flight. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“The Magi" Now as at all times I can see in the mind's eye, In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“THE ROSE TOTHE ROSE UPON THE ROOD OF TIME Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days! Come near me,… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I believe when I am in the mood that all nature is full of people whom we cannot see, and that some… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
What can be shown? What true love be? All could be known or shown If Time were but gone. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
A line will take us hours maybe; / Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, / Our stitching and unstitching… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Through winter-time we call on spring, And through the spring on summer call, And when the abounding hedges ring Declare that winter's… — 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
