William Butler Yeats

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

William Butler Yeats Poems

121. Her Dream 1/3/2003
122. Her Praise 5/15/2001
123. Her Triumph 1/13/2003
124. Her Vision In The Wood 1/13/2003
125. High Talk 5/15/2001
126. His Bargain 1/13/2003
127. His Confidence 1/13/2003
128. His Dream 1/13/2003
129. His Phoenix 5/15/2001
130. Hound Voice 5/15/2001
131. I Am Of Ireland 1/13/2003
132. Imitated From The Japanese 5/15/2001
133. In Memory Of Alfred Pollexfen 5/15/2001
134. In Memory Of Eva Gore-Booth And Con Markiewicz 1/13/2003
135. In Memory Of Major Robert Gregory 1/3/2003
136. In Tara's Halls 5/15/2001
137. In The Seven Woods 5/15/2001
138. Into The Twilight 5/15/2001
139. Introductory Lines (The Shadowy Waters) 1/1/2004
140. John Kinsella's Lament For Mr. Mary Moore 5/15/2001
141. King And No King 5/15/2001
142. Lapis Lazuli 5/15/2001
143. Leda And The Swan 5/15/2001
144. Lines Written In Dejection 5/15/2001
145. Long-Legged Fly 5/15/2001
146. Love Song 1/3/2003
147. Love's Loneliness 1/13/2003
148. Lullaby 1/13/2003
149. Mad As The Mist And Snow 1/13/2003
150. Maid Quiet 5/15/2001
151. Man And The Echo 1/13/2003
152. Me Peacock 5/15/2001
153. Meditations In Time Of Civil War 5/15/2001
154. Meeting 1/13/2003
155. Memory 5/15/2001
156. Men Improve With The Years 5/15/2001
157. Michael Robartes And The Dancer 1/3/2003
158. Mohini Chatterjee 5/15/2001
159. Narrative And Dramatic The Wanderings Of Oisin 5/15/2001
160. Never Give All The Heart 5/15/2001

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  • (11/8/2008 12:25:00 PM)

    one of my all time favorite writers

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (6/14/2008 1:34:00 AM)

    your poems flies into new horizen.

  • 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/)

  • 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


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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