Author: William Butler Yeats

Here is fresh matter, poet, Matter for old age meet; Might of the Church and the State, Their mobs put […]

‘Your eyes that once were never weary of mine Are bowed in sotrow under pendulous lids, Because our love is […]

Swift has sailed into his rest; Savage indignation there Cannot lacerate his breast. Imitate him if you dare, World-besotted traveller; […]

I. Ancestral Houses Surely among a rich man’s flowering lawns, Amid the rustle of his planted hills, Life overflows without […]

When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And […]

O’Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the […]

Why should I blame her that she filled my days With misery, or that she would of late Have taught […]

If I make the lashes dark And the eyes more bright And the lips more scarlet, Or ask if all […]

This great purple butterfly, In the prison of my hands, Has a learning in his eye Not a poor fool […]

She hears me strike the board and say That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being […]