William Butler Yeats

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

William Butler Yeats Poems

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