Home ⇒ 📌William Butler Yeats ⇒ A Faery Song
A Faery Song
Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania,
In their bridal sleep under a Cromlech.
We who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men.
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then:
Us who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.
(2 votes, average: 4.50 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
- A Death Song What cometh here from west to east awending? And who are these, the marchers stern and slow? We bear the message that the rich are sending Aback to those who bade them wake and know. Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay, But one and all if they would dusk the day. We […]...
- At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
- Song's Eternity What is song’s eternity? Come and see. Can it noise and bustle be? Come and see. Praises sung or praises said Can it be? Wait awhile and these are dead – Sigh, sigh; Be they high or lowly bred They die. What is song’s eternity? Come and see. Melodies of earth and sky, Here they […]...
- Sheep Thousands of sheep, soft-footed, black-nosed sheep One by one going up the hill and over the fence one by One four-footed pattering up and over one by one wiggling Their stub tails as they take the short jump and go Over one by one silently unless for the multitudinous Drumming of their hoofs as they […]...
- The Oldest Song “These were never your true love’s eyes. Why do you feign that you love them? You that broke from their constancies, And the wide calm brows above them! This was never your true love’s speech. Why do you thrill when you hear it? You that have ridden out of its reach The width of the […]...
- Kin BROTHER, I am fire Surging under the ocean floor. I shall never meet you, brother Not for years, anyhow; Maybe thousands of years, brother. Then I will warm you, Hold you close, wrap you in circles, Use you and change you Maybe thousands of years, brother. Where the moon slants and wavers....
- A Birthday Song. To S. G For ever wave, for ever float and shine Before my yearning eyes, oh! dream of mine Wherein I dreamed that time was like a vine, A creeping rose, that clomb a height of dread Out of the sea of Birth, all filled with dead, Up to the brilliant cloud of Death o’erhead. This vine bore […]...
- Sky Song The flower of the Alps told the seashell: “You’re shining” The seashell told the sea: “You echo” The sea told the boat: “You’re shuddering” The boat told the fire: “You’re glowing brightly” The fire told me: “I glow less brightly than her eyes” The boat told me: “I shudder less than your heart does when […]...
- Children Come to me, O ye children! For I hear you at your play, And the questions that perplexed me Have vanished quite away. Ye open the eastern windows, That look towards the sun, Where thoughts are singing swallows And the brooks of morning run. In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine, In your […]...
- Dream Song 77: Seedy Henry rose up shy Seedy Henry rose up shy in de world & shaved & swung his barbells, duded Henry up And p. a.’d poor thousands of persons on topics of grand Moment to Henry, ah to those less & none. Wif a book of his in either hand He is stript down to move on. €”Come away, Mr. […]...
- Dream Song 90: Op. posth. no. 13 In the night-reaches dreamed he of better graces, Of liberations, and beloved faces, Such as now ere dawn he sings. It would not be easy, accustomed to these things, To give up the old world, but he could try; Let it all rest, have a good cry. Let Randall rest, whom your self-torturing Cannot restore […]...
- 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
- Sonnet XXII: With Fools and Children To Folly With fools and children, good discretion bears; Then, honest people, bear with Love and me, Nor older yet, nor wiser made by years, Amongst the rest of fools and children be; Love, still a baby, plays with gauds and toys, And, like a wanton, sports with every feather, And idiots still are running […]...
- Dream Song 16: Henry's pelt was put on sundry walls Henry’s pelt was put on sundry walls Where it did much resemble Henry and Them persons was delighted. Especially his long & glowing tail By all them was admired, and visitors. They whistled: This is it! Golden, whilst your frozen daiquiris Whir at midnight, gleams on you his fur & silky & black. Mission accomplished, […]...
- The Grey Monk “I die, I die!” the Mother said, “My children die for lack of bread. What more has the merciless Tyrant said?” The Monk sat down on the stony bed. The blood red ran from the Grey Monk’s side, His hands and feet were wounded wide, His body bent, his arms and knees Like to the […]...
- The Little Box The little box gets her first teeth And her little length Little width little emptiness And all the rest she has The little box continues growing The cupboard that she was inside Is now inside her And she grows bigger bigger bigger Now the room is inside her And the house and the city and […]...
- 4. Song-In the Character of a Ruined Farmer THE SUN he is sunk in the west, All creatures retirиd to rest, While here I sit, all sore beset, With sorrow, grief, and woe: And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! The prosperous man is asleep, Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep; But Misery and I must watch The surly tempest blow: And it’s O, […]...
- A Noon Song There are songs for the morning and songs for the night, For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon; But who will give praise to the fulness of light, And sing us a song of the glory of noon? Oh, the high noon, the clear noon, The noon with golden crest; When the blue […]...
- A Celebration of Charis: I. His Excuse for Loving Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love. Though I now write fifty years, I have had, and have, my peers; Poets, though divine, are men, Some have lov’d as old again. And it is not always face, Clothes, or fortune, gives the grace; Or the feature, or the youth. But […]...
- Nurse's Song (Innocence) When voices of children are heard on the green And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast And everything else is still Then come home my children the sun is gone down And the dews of night arise Come come leave off play, and let us away Till […]...
- Dream Song 103: I consider a song will be as humming-bird I consider a song will be as humming-bird Swift, down-light, missile-metal-hard, & strange As the world of anti-matter Where they are wondering: does time run backward— Which the poet thought was true; Scarlatti-supple; But can Henry write it? Wreckt, in deep danger, he shook once his head, Returning to meditation. And word had sped All […]...
- Poet's Path My garden hath a slender path With ivy overgrown, A secret place where once would pace A pot all alone; I see him now with fretted brow, Plunged deep in thought; And sometimes he would write maybe, And sometimes he would not. A verse a day he used to say Keeps worry from the door; […]...
- Song of the Future ‘Tis strange that in a land so strong So strong and bold in mighty youth, We have no poet’s voice of truth To sing for us a wondrous song. Our chiefest singer yet has sung In wild, sweet notes a passing strain, All carelessly and sadly flung To that dull world he thought so vain. […]...
- A Peck of Gold Dust always blowing about the town, Except when sea-fog laid it down, And I was one of the children told Some of the blowing dust was gold. All the dust the wind blew high Appeared like god in the sunset sky, But I was one of the children told Some of the dust was really […]...
- Song The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, Under the burden of dissatisfaction the weight, The weight we carry is love. Who can deny? In dreams It touches the body, In thought constructs A miracle, in imagination Anguishes till born In human Looks out of the heart burning with purity For […]...
- Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
- My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
- Dream Song 110: It was the blue & plain ones. I forget all that It was the blue & plain ones. I forget all that. My own clouds darkening hung. Besides, it wasn’t serious. They took them in different rooms & fed them lies. ‘She admitted you wanted to get rid of it.’ ‘He told us he told you to.’ The Force, with its rapists con-men murderers, Has been […]...
- The Song Of The Pacifist What do they matter, our headlong hates, when we take the toll of our Dead? Think ye our glory and gain will pay for the torrent of blood we have shed? By the cheers of our Victory will the heart of the mother be comforted? If by the Victory all we mean is a broken […]...
- A Song Of Sixty-Five Brave Thackeray has trolled of days when he was twenty-one, And bounded up five flights of stairs, a gallant garreteer; And yet again in mellow vein when youth was gaily run, Has dipped his nose in Gascon wine, and told of Forty Year. But if I worthy were to sing a richer, rarer time, I’d […]...
- Examples of Early Piety What blest examples do I find Writ in the Word of Truth Of children that began to mind Religion in their youth! Jesus, who reigns above the sky, And keeps the world in awe, Was once a child as young as I, And kept His Father’s law. At twelve years old he talked with men, […]...
- Frolic THE CHILDREN were shouting together And racing along the sands, A glimmer of dancing shadows, A dovelike flutter of hands. The stars were shouting in heaven, The sun was chasing the moon: The game was the same as the children’s, They danced to the self-same tune. The whole of the world was merry, One joy […]...
- MAHOMET'S SONG [This song was intended to be introduced in A dramatic poem entitled Mahomet, the plan of which was not carried Out by Goethe. He mentions that it was to have been sung by Ali Towards the end of the piece, in honor of his master, Mahomet, shortly Before his death, and when at the height […]...
- The Children's Song Puck of Poock’s Hills Land of our Birth, we pledge to thee Our love and toil in the years to be; When we are grown and take our place As men and women with our race. Father in Heaven who lovest all, Oh, help Thy children when they call; That they may build from age […]...
- Dream Song 54: 'NO VISITORS' I thumb the roller to ‘NO VISITORS’ I thumb the roller to And leans against the door. Comfortable in my horseblanket I prop on the costly bed & dream of my wife, My first wife, And my second wife & my son. Insulting, they put guardrails up, As if it were a crib! I growl at the head nurse; we […]...
- FRIST POEM A rainbow comes pouring into my window, I am electrified. Songs burst from my breast, all my crying stops, mistory fills the air. I look for my shues under my bed. A fat colored woman becomes my mother. I have no false teeth yet. Suddenly ten children sit on my lap. I grow a beard […]...
- There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
- A Song of Peach-Blossom River A fisherman is drifting, enjoying the spring mountains, And the peach-trees on both banks lead him to an ancient source. Watching the fresh-coloured trees, he never thinks of distance Till he comes to the end of the blue stream and suddenly – strange men! It’s a cave-with a mouth so narrow that he has to […]...
- Oh! Mr Best You're Very Bad Oh! Mr. Best, you’re very bad And all the world shall know it; Your base behaviour shall be sung By me, a tunefull Poet. You used to go to Harrowgate Each summer as it came, And why I pray should you refuse To go this year the same? The way’s as plain, the road’s as […]...
Amber »