William Butler Yeats

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

William Butler Yeats Poems

361. The Wild Swans At Coole 5/17/2001
362. A Man Young And Old 5/15/2001
363. Leda And The Swan 5/15/2001
364. After Long Silence 1/3/2003
365. A Friend's Illness 5/15/2001
366. A Song 5/15/2001
367. An Acre Of Grass 5/15/2001
368. A Last Confession 1/13/2003
369. Never Give All The Heart 5/15/2001
370. The Stolen Child 5/17/2001
371. Among School Children 5/15/2001
372. A Dramatic Poem 5/15/2001
373. The Song Of Wandering Aengus 5/17/2001
374. A Prayer For My Daughter 5/15/2001
375. Byzantium 5/15/2001
376. A Man Young And Old: Iii. The Mermaid 1/13/2003
377. A Bronze Head 5/15/2001
378. A First Confession 1/13/2003
379. Easter, 1916 1/13/2003
380. A Man Young And Old: I. First Love 1/13/2003
381. Aedh Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven 1/3/2003
382. A Drunken Man's Praise Of Sobriety 5/15/2001
383. Love's Loneliness 1/13/2003
384. A Deep-Sworn Vow 5/15/2001
385. Sailing To Byzantium 5/16/2001
386. Youth And Age 5/17/2001
387. A Cradle Song 5/15/2001
388. An Irish Airman Forsees His Death 5/15/2001
389. A Dialogue Of Self And Soul 5/15/2001
390. A Dream Of Death 5/15/2001
391. A Faery Song 5/15/2001
392. Brown Penny 5/15/2001
393. The Lake Isle Of Innisfree 5/17/2001
394. A Coat 5/15/2001
395. The Second Coming 5/17/2001
396. A Drinking Song 5/15/2001
397. A Crazed Girl 5/15/2001
398. He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven 5/15/2001
399. When You Are Old 5/17/2001

Comments about William Butler Yeats

  • Aidan O'Huaithne (11/14/2006 11:00:00 PM)

    'Hmm, what should i say about a man like Yeats, probably just say he is Irish pride.' Yeah I love that bread. (Explanation= http: //www.irishpride.ie/)

    26 person liked.
    35 person did not like.
  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (5/30/2006 8:54:00 AM)

    Hmm, what should i say about a man like Yeats, probably just say he is Irish pride

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

Consolation

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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