William Butler Yeats

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

William Butler Yeats Poems

361. 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
362. To A Young Beauty 5/17/2001
363. To A Young Girl 5/17/2001
364. To An Isle In The Water 5/17/2001
365. To Be Carved On A Stone At Thoor Ballylee 5/17/2001
366. To Dorothy Wellesley 5/17/2001
367. To His Heart, Bidding It Have No Fear 5/17/2001
368. To Ireland In The Coming Times 5/17/2001
369. To Some I Have Talked With By The Fire 5/17/2001
370. To Songs Of A Fool 5/17/2001
371. To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time 5/17/2001
372. Tom At Cruachan 1/13/2003
373. Tom O'Roughley 5/17/2001
374. Tom The Lunatic 1/3/2003
375. Towards Break Of Day 5/17/2001
376. Two Songs From A Play 1/3/2003
377. Two Songs Of A Fool 1/3/2003
378. Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake 5/17/2001
379. Two Years Later 5/17/2001
380. Under Ben Bulben 5/17/2001
381. Under Saturn 5/17/2001
382. Under The Moon 5/17/2001
383. Under The Round Tower 5/17/2001
384. Upon A Dying Lady 5/17/2001
385. Upon A House Shaken By The Land Agitation 5/17/2001
386. Vacilliation 5/17/2001
387. Veronica's Napkin 5/17/2001
388. What Then? 5/17/2001
389. What Was Lost 5/17/2001
390. When Helen Lived 5/17/2001
391. When You Are Old 5/17/2001
392. Where My Books Go 1/3/2003
393. Who Goes With Fergus? 5/17/2001
394. Why Should Not Old Men Be Mad? 5/17/2001
395. Wisdom 5/17/2001
396. Words 5/17/2001
397. Words For Music Perhaps 5/17/2001
398. Young Man's Song 1/3/2003
399. Youth And Age 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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