William Butler Yeats

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

William Butler Yeats Poems

321. Coole Park And Ballylee, 1931 1/13/2003
322. Into The Twilight 5/15/2001
323. Friends 5/15/2001
324. Words For Music Perhaps 5/17/2001
325. A Man Young And Old: Ix. The Secrets Of The Old 1/13/2003
326. Are You Content? 5/15/2001
327. The Choice 5/17/2001
328. A Woman Young And Old 5/15/2001
329. A Memory Of Youth 5/15/2001
330. Love Song 1/3/2003
331. Young Man's Song 1/3/2003
332. Long-Legged Fly 5/15/2001
333. A Prayer For My Son 5/15/2001
334. A Man Young And Old: Viii. Summer And Spring 1/13/2003
335. For Anne Gregory 5/15/2001
336. A Poet To His Beloved 5/15/2001
337. Her Dream 1/3/2003
338. Nineteen Hundred And Nineteen 5/15/2001
339. Father And Child 1/13/2003
340. Why Should Not Old Men Be Mad? 5/17/2001
341. Broken Dreams 5/15/2001
342. Mad As The Mist And Snow 1/13/2003
343. Words 5/17/2001
344. The Two Trees 5/17/2001
345. Crazy Jane Talks With The Bishop 1/13/2003
346. Her Anxiety 1/3/2003
347. A Man Young And Old: Ii. Human Dignity 1/13/2003
348. A Man Young And Old: Iv. The Death Of The Hare 1/13/2003
349. All Things Can Tempt Me 5/15/2001
350. Adam's Curse 5/15/2001
351. Ephemera 5/15/2001
352. Death 5/15/2001
353. The Cat And The Moon 5/17/2001
354. An Acre Of Grass 5/15/2001
355. No Second Troy 5/15/2001
356. Politics 5/15/2001
357. Where My Books Go 1/3/2003
358. A Lover's Quarrel Among The Fairies 1/3/2003
359. The Sorrow Of Love 5/17/2001
360. The Wild Swans At Coole 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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