William Butler Yeats Quotes

A man in his own secret meditation Is lost amid the labyrinth that he has made In art or politics....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen."
(2) (0)
Suddenly I saw the cold and rook-delighting heaven That seemed as though ice burned and was but the more ice,
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. The Cold Heaven (l. 1-2). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
(3) (0)
That Time can never mar a lover's vows Under that woven changeless roof of boughs: The singing shook him out of his new ease.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. The Man Who Dreamed of Faeryland (l. 10-12). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
(2) (0)
And all the popular statesmen say That purity built up the State And after kept it from decay; Admonish us to cling to that And let all base ambition be, For intellect would make us proud....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Three Monuments."
(2) (0)
Irish poets, learn your trade, Sing whatever is well made, Scorn the sort now growing up All out of shape from toe to top,
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. Under Ben Bulben (l. 68-71). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
(2) (0)
But even at the starting post, all sleek and new, I saw the wildness in her and I thought A vision of terror that it must live through Had shattered her soul.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "A Bronze Head."
(2) (0)
For she had fiery blood When I was young, And trod so sweetly proud As 'twere upon a cloud, A woman Homer sung....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "A Woman Homer Sung."
(2) (0)
Some violent bitter man, some powerful man Called architect and artist in, that they, Bitter and violent men, might rear in stone The sweetness that all longed for night and day, The gentleness none there had ever known....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "I. Ancestral Houses."
(2) (0)
Come let us mock at the good That fancied goodness might be gay, And sick of solitude Might proclaim a holiday: Wind shrieked and where are they?
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen."
(2) (0)
Ah! when the ghost begins to quicken, Confusion of the death-bed over, is it sent Out naked on the roads, as the books say, and stricken By the injustice of the skies for punishment?
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. The Cold Heaven (l. 9-12). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
(2) (0)