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. 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. Three Songs To The Same Tune 5/17/2001
5. The Three Beggars 12/31/2002
6. The Statesman's Holiday 5/17/2001
7. To A Wealthy Man Who Promised A Second Subscription To The Dublin Municipal Gallery If It Were 1/1/2004
8. The Poet Pleads With The Elemental Powers 5/17/2001
9. The Lover Speaks To The Hearers Of His Songs In Coming Days 5/17/2001
10. The Mountain Tomb 5/17/2001
11. Tom O'Roughley 5/17/2001
12. The Spur 5/17/2001
13. The Indian To His Love 5/17/2001
14. The Three Monuments 5/17/2001
15. Two Songs Of A Fool 1/3/2003
16. Under Saturn 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 Nineteenth Century And After 5/17/2001
22. The Seven Sages 5/17/2001
23. The Realists 5/17/2001
24. The Spirit Medium 5/17/2001
25. To Songs Of A Fool 5/17/2001
26. Those Images 5/17/2001
27. Veronica's Napkin 5/17/2001
28. The Two Kings 5/17/2001
29. The Peacock 1/13/2003
30. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Iii 1/3/2003
31. The New Faces 5/17/2001
32. The Happy Townland 5/17/2001
33. The Moods 5/17/2001
34. The Valleys Of The Black Pig 5/17/2001
35. To A Squirrel At Kyle-Na-No 1/13/2003
36. The Grey Rock 1/13/2003
37. To A Shade 5/17/2001
38. Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake 5/17/2001
39. To A Poet, Who Would Have Me Praise Certain Bad Poets, Imitators Of His And Mine 5/17/2001
40. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Ii 1/3/2003
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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