William Butler Yeats (13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)
Poems by William Butler Yeats : 341 / 402
The Wheel
THROUGH winter-time we call on spring,
And through the spring on summer call,
And when abounding hedges ring
Declare that winter's best of all;
And after that there s nothing good
Because the spring-time has not come --
Nor know that what disturbs our blood
Is but its longing for the tomb.
William Butler Yeats
Submitted: Thursday, May 17, 2001
Read poems about / on: spring, winter, summer, time
Poems by William Butler Yeats : 341 / 402
People who read William Butler Yeats also read
Top 500 Poems
-
Phenomenal Woman
Maya Angelou
-
The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost
-
Still I Rise
Maya Angelou
-
If You Forget Me
Pablo Neruda
-
Dreams
Langston Hughes
-
Annabel Lee
Edgar Allan Poe
-
If
Rudyard Kipling
-
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
-
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
-
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Maya Angelou

Comments about this poem (The Wheel by William Butler Yeats )