The poor have very few hours in which to enjoy themselves; they must take their pleasure raw; they haven't the time to… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Florence Farr once said to me, If we could say to ourselves, with sincerity, 'this passing moment is as good as any… — 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
“The Celt, and his cromlechs, and his pillar-stones, these will not change much – indeed, it is doubtful if anybody at all… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Many times man lives and dies between his two eternities: that of race and that of Soul... A brief parting from those… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
...How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Laughter not time destroyed my voice And put that crack in it, And when the moon's pot-bellied I get a laughing fit. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Come near; I would, before my time to go, Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways: Red Rose, proud Rose, sad… — 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
Imagining in excited reverie That the future years had come, Dancing to a frenzied drum, Out of the murderous innocence of the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“I said: '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
Many times man lives and dies Betweeen his two eternities, That of race and that of soul, And ancient Ireland knew it… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The true poet is all the time a visionary and whether with friends or not, as much alone as a man on… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Now as at all times I can see in the mind's eye, In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones Appear… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn, Come clear of the nets of wrong and right; Laugh, heart, again in the gray twilight,… — 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
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
