And God would bid His warfare cease, Saying all things were well; And softly make a rosy peace, A peace of Heaven… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The things a man has heard and seen are threads of life, and if he pull them carefully from the confused distaff… — 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
to be choked with hate May well be of all evil chances chief. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The house ghost is usually a harmless and well-meaning creature. It is put up with as long as possible. It brings good… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I bear a burden that might well try Men that do all by rule, And what can I That am a wandering-witted… — 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
