And that enquiring man John Synge comes next, That dying chose the living world for text And never could have rested in… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The Bishop has a skin, God knows, Wrinkled like the foot of a goose, (All find safety in the tomb.) Nor can… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I--love's skein upon the ground, My body in the tomb-- Shall leap into the light lost In my mother's womb. — 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--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
How can they know Truth flourishes where the student's lamp has shone, And there alone, that have no solitude? So the crowd… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Test every work of intellect or faith, And everything that your own hands have wrought And call those works extravagance of breath… — 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
