William Butler Yeats Quotes

The sad, the lonely, the insatiable, To these Old Night shall all her mystery tell; God's bell has claimed them by the little cry Of their sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Rose of Battle."
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I know of the leafy paths that the witches take Who come with their crowns of pearl and their spindles of wool, And their secret smile, out of the depths of the lake....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Withering of the Boughs."
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But the dark changed to red, and torches shone, And deafening music shook the leaves; a troop Shouldered a litter with a wounded man, Or smote upon the string and to the sound Sang of the beast that gave the fatal wound.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "VIII. Her Vision in the Wood."
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I had not given a penny for a song Did not the poet sing it with such airs That one believed he had a sword upstairs; Yet would be now, could I but have my wish, Colder and dumber and deafer than a fish.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "All Things Can Tempt Me."
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We were the last romantics—chose for theme Traditional sanctity and loveliness;
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. Coole and Ballylee, 1931 (l. 41-42). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
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I know that Quiet Wanders laughing and eating her wild heart Among pigeons and bees, while the Great Archer, Who but awaits His hour to shoot, still hangs A cloudy quiver over Pairc-na-lee.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "In the Seven Woods."
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In dreams begins responsibility.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. Responsibilities, epigraph (1914).
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Hurrah for revolution and cannon come again! The beggars have changed places, but the lash goes on.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. The Great Day (l. 3-4). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
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And God would bid His warfare cease, Saying all things were well; And softly make a rosy peace, A peace of Heaven with Hell.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Rose of Peace."
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I know of the sleepy country, where swans fly round Coupled with golden chains, and sing as they fly. A king and a queen are wandering there, and the sound Has made them so happy and hopeless, so deaf and so blind With wisdom, they wander till all the years have gone by....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Withering of the Boughs."
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