William Butler Yeats

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

William Butler Yeats Poems

41. To Dorothy Wellesley 5/17/2001
42. The Shadowy Waters: The Harp Of Aengus 1/13/2003
43. Crazy Jane On The Day Of Judgment 1/13/2003
44. To A Poet, Who Would Have Me Praise Certain Bad Poets, Imitators Of His And Mine 5/17/2001
45. On Those That Hated The 'Playboy Of The Western World,' 1907 1/13/2003
46. A Model For The Laureate 5/15/2001
47. Two Songs Of A Fool 1/3/2003
48. Aedh Tells Of A Valley Full Of Lovers 1/3/2003
49. The Collar-Bone Of A Hare 5/17/2001
50. Anashuya And Vijaya 5/15/2001
51. Shepherd And Goatheard 5/16/2001
52. Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake 5/17/2001
53. Vacilliation 5/17/2001
54. Responsibilities - Closing 1/13/2003
55. His Bargain 1/13/2003
56. The Cap And Bells 5/17/2001
57. To His Heart, Bidding It Have No Fear 5/17/2001
58. Presences 5/15/2001
59. The Saint And The Hunchback 5/17/2001
60. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Iii 1/3/2003
61. Colonel Martin 5/15/2001
62. Owen Aherne And His Dancers 5/15/2001
63. The Travail Of Passion 5/17/2001
64. The Results Of Thought 5/17/2001
65. The Lady's Second Song 5/17/2001
66. On Those That Hated 'The Playboy Of The Western World' 5/15/2001
67. The Nineteenth Century And After 5/17/2001
68. Michael Robartes And The Dancer 1/3/2003
69. Baile And Aillinn 5/15/2001
70. The Mountain Tomb 5/17/2001
71. The Everlasting Voices 5/17/2001
72. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book Ii 1/3/2003
73. The Old Stone Cross 5/17/2001
74. The Host Of The Air 5/17/2001
75. The Three Monuments 5/17/2001
76. Against Unworthy Praise 5/15/2001
77. The New Faces 5/17/2001
78. At The Abbey Theatre 5/15/2001
79. On A Picture Of A Black Centaur By Edmund Dulac 5/15/2001
80. Paudeen 5/15/2001
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

The White Birds

I WOULD that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,
Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:

[Report Error]