William Butler Yeats (1865-1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

poet William Butler Yeats
#15 on top 500 poets

Comments about William Butler Yeats

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  • Barb Nixon (4/12/2012 12:55:00 PM)

    William Butler Yeats is my favourite poet, he captures a mystique and depth in his poetry that touches my soul.

    10 person liked.
    		4 person did not like.
  • Sacheeka Benaragama (2/11/2012 10:52:00 PM)

    these poems are very good for childre like us

    12 person liked.
    		9 person did not like.
  • Babyjoram Benson (5/18/2009 5:56:00 AM)

    Hello
    (favorfrank35@yahoo.co.uk)
    My name is Miss favor am 24yr old. I saw your profile today at www.youlog.com
    and it really acttract me alot i believe that you are the man i
    have been looking for to share my love; How is your health? i hope all is well
    with you. I believe that we can move from here; but remember that distance; age
    and colour dose not matter what matters is the true love and understanding; in
    my next
    e-mail i shall include my pictuer; i been waithing for your reply mail
    me with this mail address for further introduction.
    Bye hopeing to hear from you soonest

    (favorfrank35@yahoo.co.uk)

    18 person liked.
    		76 person did not like.
  • (11/8/2008 12:25:00 PM)

    one of my all time favorite writers

    15 person liked.
    		5 person did not like.
  • p.a. noushad (6/14/2008 1:34:00 AM)

    your poems flies into new horizen.

    6 person liked.
    		4 person did not like.
  • Aidan O'Huaithne (11/14/2006 11:00:00 PM)

    'Hmm, what should i say about a man like Yeats, probably just say he is Irish pride.' Yeah I love that bread. (Explanation= http: //www.irishpride.ie/)

    7 person liked.
    		7 person did not like.
  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (5/30/2006 8:54:00 AM)

    Hmm, what should i say about a man like Yeats, probably just say he is Irish pride

    8 person liked.
    		5 person did not like.

The White Birds

I WOULD that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,
Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:

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