William Butler 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. To Dorothy Wellesley 5/17/2001
4. Tom O'Roughley 5/17/2001
5. The Results Of Thought 5/17/2001
6. 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
7. The Mountain Tomb 5/17/2001
8. The Moods 5/17/2001
9. The Statesman's Holiday 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. To Songs Of A Fool 5/17/2001
12. Under Saturn 5/17/2001
13. Three Songs To The Same Tune 5/17/2001
14. The Shadowy Waters: Introductory Lines 1/13/2003
15. The Ragged Wood 5/17/2001
16. To Be Carved On A Stone At Ballylee 1/3/2003
17. The Realists 5/17/2001
18. The Lover Speaks To The Hearers Of His Songs In Coming Days 5/17/2001
19. The New Faces 5/17/2001
20. The Three Monuments 5/17/2001
21. The Valleys Of The Black Pig 5/17/2001
22. The Pilgrim 5/17/2001
23. To A Poet, Who Would Have Me Praise Certain Bad Poets, Imitators Of His And Mine 5/17/2001
24. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Ii 1/3/2003
25. The Madness Of King Goll 5/17/2001
26. The Spirit Medium 5/17/2001
27. The Poet Pleads With The Elemental Powers 5/17/2001
28. Two Songs Of A Fool 1/3/2003
29. The Old Age Of Queen Maeve 5/17/2001
30. The Shadowy Waters: The Harp Of Aengus 1/13/2003
31. The Nineteenth Century And After 5/17/2001
32. The Rose Tree 5/17/2001
33. The Unappeasable Host 5/17/2001
34. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Iii 1/3/2003
35. The Valley Of The Black Pig 1/3/2003
36. The Three Beggars 12/31/2002
37. The Three Hermits 5/17/2001
38. The Spur 5/17/2001
39. Vacilliation 5/17/2001
40. Towards Break Of Day 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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