William Butler Yeats

(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

William Butler Yeats Poems

1. Tom O'Roughley 5/17/2001
2. The Shadowy Waters: Introductory Lines 1/13/2003
3. To A Wealthy Man Who Promised A Second Subscription To The Dublin Municipal Gallery If It Were 1/1/2004
4. The Shadowy Waters: The Harp Of Aengus 1/13/2003
5. Tom At Cruachan 1/13/2003
6. The Lover Speaks To The Hearers Of His Songs In Coming Days 5/17/2001
7. The Statesman's Holiday 5/17/2001
8. The Three Monuments 5/17/2001
9. Under Saturn 5/17/2001
10. The Gift Of Harun Al-Rashid 5/17/2001
11. To Be Carved On A Stone At Ballylee 1/3/2003
12. Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake 5/17/2001
13. To Dorothy Wellesley 5/17/2001
14. Veronica's Napkin 5/17/2001
15. Three Songs To The Same Tune 5/17/2001
16. Under The Round Tower 5/17/2001
17. Vacilliation 5/17/2001
18. The Madness Of King Goll 5/17/2001
19. To Songs Of A Fool 5/17/2001
20. Towards Break Of Day 5/17/2001
21. Two Songs Of A Fool 1/3/2003
22. The Mountain Tomb 5/17/2001
23. The Lady's Second Song 5/17/2001
24. These Are The Clouds 5/17/2001
25. The Poet Pleads With The Elemental Powers 5/17/2001
26. Those Images 5/17/2001
27. The Unappeasable Host 5/17/2001
28. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Iii 1/3/2003
29. The Lover Asks Forgiveness Because Of His Many Moods 5/17/2001
30. The New Faces 5/17/2001
31. The Spirit Medium 5/17/2001
32. The Old Age Of Queen Maeve 5/17/2001
33. The Three Hermits 5/17/2001
34. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Ii 1/3/2003
35. The Happy Townland 5/17/2001
36. The Wild Old Wicked Man 5/17/2001
37. To A Wealthy Man Who Promised A Second Subscription To The Dublin Municipal Gallery If It Were Proved The People Wanted Pictures 5/17/2001
38. The Peacock 1/13/2003
39. The Results Of Thought 5/17/2001
40. The Travail Of Passion 5/17/2001
Best Poem of William Butler Yeats

When You Are Old

WHEN you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

Read the full of When You Are Old

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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