William Butler Yeats

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

Comments about William Butler Yeats

  • Emmanuel O. Richard (6/13/2018 4:32:00 AM)

    Fascinating Poetic Literary Piece

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  • Hania (4/15/2018 12:49:00 PM)

    I need Urdu translation of poems of yeats

  • syedali fathima (4/5/2018 9:48:00 AM)

    Miserable

  • Manasa kisan (1/10/2018 10:48:00 PM)

    This poem is very nice and prosperity.

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  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (11/9/2015 10:53:00 AM)

    Yeats Obituary - from The New York Times - January 29,1939:
    _________________________________________________

    Nice, France, Jan.29. - The death of William Butler Yeats, famous Irish poet and playwright, occurred yesterday near Mentone. Mr. Yeats, who won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1923, was 73 years old.
    **********************************
    Mentone, France, Jan.29 (AP) . - Mr. Yeats died in the little French Riviera town of Roquebrune, after a short illness, at a boarding house where he and his wife had been staying.
    He will be buried tomorrow at Roquebrune. It was expected, however, that eventually the poet's body would be removed to his native Ireland.
    Mr. Yeats arrived in Roquebrune early last month in ill health. He suffered repeated heart attacks, and was able to take only short walks in the gardens of the house where he stayed. He had been confined to his bed since Tuesday.
    _________________________________________________

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

An Acre Of Grass

PICTURE and book remain,
An acre of green grass
For air and exercise,
Now strength of body goes;
Midnight, an old house
Where nothing stirs but a mouse.

My temptation is quiet.
Here at life's end

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