William Butler Yeats

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

William Butler Yeats Poems

241. The Fascination Of What's Difficult 5/17/2001
242. The Fiddler Of Dooney 12/31/2002
243. The Fish 5/17/2001
244. The Fisherman 5/17/2001
245. The Folly Of Being Comforted 5/17/2001
246. The Fool By The Roadside 5/17/2001
247. The Ghost Of Roger Casement 5/17/2001
248. The Gift Of Harun Al-Rashid 5/17/2001
249. The Great Day 5/17/2001
250. The Grey Rock 1/13/2003
251. The Gyres 5/17/2001
252. The Happy Townland 5/17/2001
253. The Harp Of Aengus 5/17/2001
254. The Hawk 5/17/2001
255. The Heart Of The Woman 5/17/2001
256. The Host Of The Air 5/17/2001
257. The Hosting Of The Sidhe 5/17/2001
258. The Hour Before Dawn 5/17/2001
259. The Indian To His Love 5/17/2001
260. The Indian Upon God 5/17/2001
261. The Lady's First Song 5/17/2001
262. The Lady's Second Song 5/17/2001
263. The Lady's Third Song 5/17/2001
264. The Lake Isle Of Innisfree 5/17/2001
265. The Lamentation Of The Old Pensioner 5/17/2001
266. The Leaders Of The Crowd 5/17/2001
267. The Living Beauty 5/17/2001
268. The Lover Asks Forgiveness Because Of His Many Moods 5/17/2001
269. The Lover Mourns For The Loss Of Love 5/17/2001
270. The Lover Pleads With His Friend For Old Friends 5/17/2001
271. The Lover Speaks To The Hearers Of His Songs In Coming Days 5/17/2001
272. The Lover Tells Of The Rose In His Heart 5/17/2001
273. The Lover's Song 5/17/2001
274. The Madness Of King Goll 5/17/2001
275. The Magi 5/17/2001
276. The Man And The Echo 5/17/2001
277. The Man Who Dreamed Of Faeryland 5/17/2001
278. The Mask 5/17/2001
279. The Meditation Of The Old Fisherman 5/17/2001
280. The Moods 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


O but there is wisdom
In what the sages said;
But stretch that body for a while
And lay down that head
Till I have told the sages
Where man is comforted.

How could passion run so deep
Had I never thought
That the crime of being born
Blackens all our lot?
But where the crime's committed
The crime can be forgot.

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