Ireland)

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341.	The Wheel	5/17/2001
342.	The White Birds	5/17/2001
343.	The Wild Old Wicked Man	5/17/2001
344.	The Wild Swans At Coole	5/17/2001
345.	The Winding Stair	1/1/2004
346.	The Winding Stair And Other Poems	5/17/2001
347.	The Witch	5/17/2001
348.	The Withering Of The Boughs	5/17/2001
349.	These Are The Clouds	5/17/2001
350.	Those Dancing Days Are Gone	1/13/2003
351.	Those Images	5/17/2001
352.	Three Marching Songs	5/17/2001
353.	Three Movements	5/17/2001
354.	Three Songs To The One Burden	5/17/2001
355.	Three Songs To The Same Tune	5/17/2001
356.	Three Things	1/13/2003
357.	To A Child Dancing In The Wind	5/17/2001
358.	To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Nothing	5/17/2001
359.	To A Poet, Who Would Have Me Praise Certain Bad Poets, Imitators Of His And Mine	5/17/2001
360.	To A Shade	5/17/2001

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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:

William Butler Yeats (13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

Poems of William Butler Yeats

The White Birds