Because I helped to wind the clock, I come to hear it strike. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Come let us mock at the good That fancied goodness might be gay, And sick of solitude Might proclaim a holiday: Wind… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Great Powers of falling wave and wind and windy fire, With your harmonious choir Encircle her I love and sing her into… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
O but we dreamed to mend Whatever mischief seemed To afflict mankind, but now That winds of winter blow Learn that we… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
While on that old grey stone I sat Under the old wind-broken tree, I knew that One is animate, Mankind inanimate phantasy. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
O heart the winds have shaken, the unappeasable host Is comelier than candles at Mother Mary's feet. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
“Faeries, come take me out of this dull world, For I would ride with you upon the wind, Run on the top… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round, Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound, Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
What if I bade you leave The cavern of the mind? There's better exercise In the sunlight and wind. — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
yet it seems Life scarce can cast a fragrance on the wind, Scarce spread a glory to the morning beams, But the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Him who trembles before the flame and the flood, And the winds that blow through the starry ways, Let the starry winds… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I can exchange opinion with any neighbouring mind, I have as healthy flesh and blood as any rhymer's had, But O! my… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
An intellectual hatred is the worst, So let her think opinions are accursed. Have I not seen the loveliest woman born Out… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
If there's no hatred in a mind Assault and battery of the wind Can never tear the linnet from the leaf — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I, too, await The hour of thy great wind of love and hate. When shall the stars be blown about the sky,… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The wind blows out of the gates of the day, The wind blows over the lonely of heart, And the lonely of… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Come let us mock at the great That had such burdens on the mind And toiled so hard and late To leave… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon 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
