William Butler Yeats

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

William Butler Yeats Poems

41. The Wild Old Wicked Man 5/17/2001
42. The Lady's Second Song 5/17/2001
43. The Indian To His Love 5/17/2001
44. The Ragged Wood 5/17/2001
45. The Mother Of God 5/17/2001
46. Vacilliation 5/17/2001
47. The Scholars 5/17/2001
48. The Shadowy Waters: The Harp Of Aengus 1/13/2003
49. The Happy Townland 5/17/2001
50. The Rose Of Peace 5/17/2001
51. The People 5/17/2001
52. Tom The Lunatic 1/3/2003
53. The Lady's Third Song 5/17/2001
54. The Sad Shepherd 5/17/2001
55. To A Shade 5/17/2001
56. The Shadowy Waters: Introductory Lines 1/13/2003
57. The Shadowy Waters: The Shadowy Waters 1/13/2003
58. The Grey Rock 1/13/2003
59. The Peacock 1/13/2003
60. To Be Carved On A Stone At Thoor Ballylee 5/17/2001
61. Upon A Dying Lady 5/17/2001
62. The O'Rahilly 5/17/2001
63. The Players Ask For A Blessing On The Psalteries And On Themselves 5/17/2001
64. The Phases Of The Moon 5/17/2001
65. The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book I 1/3/2003
66. The Hour Before Dawn 5/17/2001
67. The Indian Upon God 5/17/2001
68. The Pilgrim 5/17/2001
69. Upon A House Shaken By The Land Agitation 5/17/2001
70. To His Heart, Bidding It Have No Fear 5/17/2001
71. The Three Bushes 5/17/2001
72. Three Movements 5/17/2001
73. The Lover Asks Forgiveness Because Of His Many Moods 5/17/2001
74. The Song Of The Old Mother 5/17/2001
75. The Unappeasable Host 5/17/2001
76. The Old Stone Cross 5/17/2001
77. Two Songs From A Play 1/3/2003
78. The Saint And The Hunchback 5/17/2001
79. The Statues 5/17/2001
80. To A Young Beauty 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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