William Butler Yeats

[W.B. Yeats] (13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

William Butler Yeats Poems

1. Tom At Cruachan 1/13/2003
2. Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake 5/17/2001
3. The Death of Cuchulain 6/13/2015
4. To A Wealthy Man Who Promised A Second Subscription To The Dublin Municipal Gallery If It Were 1/1/2004
5. Veronica's Napkin 5/17/2001
6. Tom O'Roughley 5/17/2001
7. The Indian To His Love 5/17/2001
8. 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
9. Three Songs To The Same Tune 5/17/2001
10. The Old Age Of Queen Maeve 5/17/2001
11. The Nineteenth Century And After 5/17/2001
12. The Statesman's Holiday 5/17/2001
13. The Realists 5/17/2001
14. The Three Hermits 5/17/2001
15. The Three Monuments 5/17/2001
16. The Results Of Thought 5/17/2001
17. To Songs Of A Fool 5/17/2001
18. The Lover Speaks To The Hearers Of His Songs In Coming Days 5/17/2001
19. The Peacock 1/13/2003
20. The Three Beggars 12/31/2002
21. The Poet Pleads With The Elemental Powers 5/17/2001
22. The Spur 5/17/2001
23. The Spirit Medium 5/17/2001
24. Under The Round Tower 5/17/2001
25. The Mountain Tomb 5/17/2001
26. The New Faces 5/17/2001
27. The Gift Of Harun Al-Rashid 5/17/2001
28. The Happy Townland 5/17/2001
29. The Unappeasable Host 5/17/2001
30. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Iii 1/3/2003
31. Under Saturn 5/17/2001
32. The Moods 5/17/2001
33. To A Squirrel At Kyle-Na-No 1/13/2003
34. The Grey Rock 1/13/2003
35. The Lady's Third Song 5/17/2001
36. Upon A Dying Lady 5/17/2001
37. To A Shade 5/17/2001
38. To A Poet, Who Would Have Me Praise Certain Bad Poets, Imitators Of His And Mine 5/17/2001
39. The Ragged Wood 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

Consolation

O but there is wisdom
In what the sages said;
But stretch that body for a while
And lay down that head
Till I have told the sages
Where man is comforted.

How could passion run so deep
Had I never thought
That the crime of being born
Blackens all our lot?
But where the crime's committed
The crime can be forgot.

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