William Butler Yeats Poems

MAY God be praised for woman
That gives up all her mind,
A man may find in no man
A friendship of her kind
...

THOUGH leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither into the truth.
...

FOR one throb of the artery,
While on that old grey stone I Sat
Under the old wind-broken tree,
...

BRING me to the blasted oak
That I, midnight upon the stroke,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
May call down curses on his head
Because of my dear Jack that's dead.
...

'I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
'Come out of charity,
...

I dreamed as in my bed I lay,
All night's fathomless wisdom come,
That I had shorn my locks away
And laid them on Love's lettered tomb:
...

SWEETHEART, do not love too long:
I loved long and long,
And grew to be out of fashion
Like an old song.
...

THE girl goes dancing there
On the leaf-sown, new-mown, smooth
Grass plot of the garden;
...

SHE lived in storm and strife,
Her soul had such desire
For what proud death may bring
That it could not endure
...

FATHER AND CHILD
SHE hears me strike the board and say
That she is under ban
Of all good men and women,
...