William Butler Yeats

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

William Butler Yeats Poems

1. The Death of Cuchulain 6/13/2015
2. Tom At Cruachan 1/13/2003
3. The Three Monuments 5/17/2001
4. Tom O'Roughley 5/17/2001
5. The Shadowy Waters: Introductory Lines 1/13/2003
6. The Three Beggars 12/31/2002
7. The Statesman's Holiday 5/17/2001
8. Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake 5/17/2001
9. The Mountain Tomb 5/17/2001
10. The Spur 5/17/2001
11. The Happy Townland 5/17/2001
12. The New Faces 5/17/2001
13. The Poet Pleads With The Elemental Powers 5/17/2001
14. To Dorothy Wellesley 5/17/2001
15. Under Saturn 5/17/2001
16. 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
17. The Ragged Wood 5/17/2001
18. The Gift Of Harun Al-Rashid 5/17/2001
19. The Old Age Of Queen Maeve 5/17/2001
20. The Travail Of Passion 5/17/2001
21. The Shadowy Waters: The Harp Of Aengus 1/13/2003
22. The Realists 5/17/2001
23. The Results Of Thought 5/17/2001
24. The Lover Speaks To The Hearers Of His Songs In Coming Days 5/17/2001
25. The Two Kings 5/17/2001
26. To A Wealthy Man Who Promised A Second Subscription To The Dublin Municipal Gallery If It Were 1/1/2004
27. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Iii 1/3/2003
28. To Be Carved On A Stone At Ballylee 1/3/2003
29. The People 5/17/2001
30. The Grey Rock 1/13/2003
31. The Spirit Medium 5/17/2001
32. The Shadowy Waters 5/17/2001
33. The Seven Sages 5/17/2001
34. Vacilliation 5/17/2001
35. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Ii 1/3/2003
36. The Madness Of King Goll 5/17/2001
37. Three Songs To The Same Tune 5/17/2001
38. The Nineteenth Century And After 5/17/2001
39. The Three Hermits 5/17/2001
40. The Indian To His Love 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

Her Anxiety

Earth in beauty dressed
Awaits returning spring.
All true love must die,
Alter at the best
Into some lesser thing.
Prove that I lie.

Such body lovers have,
Such exacting breath,
That they touch or sigh.
Every touch they give,
Love is nearer death.
Prove that I lie.

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