William Butler Yeats Quotes

And Peter that had great affairs And was a pushing man Shrieks, "I am King of the Peacocks," And perches on a stone; And then I laugh till tears run down And the heart thumps at my side....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "VII. The Friends of His Youth."
(0) (0)
I have mummy truths to tell Whereat the living mock, Though not for sober ear, For maybe all that hear Should laugh and weep an hour upon the clock.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "All Souls' Night."
(0) (0)
But stories that live longest Are sung above the glass, And Parnell loved his country And Parnell loved his lass.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Come Gather Round Me, Parnellites."
(0) (0)
And that enquiring man John Synge comes next, That dying chose the living world for text And never could have rested in the tomb But that, long travelling, he had come Towards nightfall upon certain set apart In a most desolate stony place....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "In Memory of Major Robert Gregory."
(0) (0)
Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies, But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Red Hanrahan's Song about Ireland."
(0) (0)
"... Can poet's thought That springs from body and in body falls Like this pure jet, now lost amid blue sky, Now bathing lily leaf and fish's scale, Be mimicry?"
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Gift of Harun Al-Rashid."
(0) (0)
Odour of blood when Christ was slain Made all Platonic tolerance vain And vain all Doric discipline.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. The Resurrection: Songs from a Play (l. 22-24). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
(0) (0)
But now they drift on the still water, Mysterious, beautiful;
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. The Wild Swans at Coole (l. 25-26). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
(0) (0)
Through light-obliterating garden foliage what magic drum? Down limb and breast or down that glimmering belly move his mouth and sinewy tongue. What from the forest came? What beast has licked its young?
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "VII. What Magic Drum?"
(0) (0)
Two thoughts were so mixed up I could not tell Whether of her or God he thought the most, But think that his mind's eye, When upward turned, on one sole image fell; And that a slight companionable ghost ...
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "All Souls' Night."
(0) (0)