William Butler Yeats Quotes

'But where can we draw water,' Said Pearse to Connolly, 'When all the wells are parched away? O plain as plain can be There's nothing but our own red blood Can make a right Rose Tree.'
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. The Rose Tree (l. 13-18). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
(0) (0)
The soldier takes pride in saluting his Captain, The devotee proffers a knee to his Lord, Some back a mare thrown from a thoroughbred, Troy backed its Helen, Troy died and adored; Great nations blossom above, A slave bows down to a slave.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Three Marching Songs."
(0) (0)
All his happier dreams came true A small old house, wife, daughter, son, Grounds where plum and cabbage grew, Poets and Wits about him drew; "What then?"sang Plato's ghost, "what then?"
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "What Then?"
(0) (0)
Believing every word I said, I praised her body and her mind Till pride had made her eyes grow bright, And pleasure made her cheeks grow red, And vanity her footfall light....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "A Memory of Youth."
(0) (0)
They sang, but had not human tunes nor words, Though all was done in common as before; They had changed their throats and had the throats of birds.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. Cuchulain Comforted (l. 23-25). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
(0) (0)
Is Eden out of time and out of space? And do you gather about us when pale light Shining on water and fallen among leaves, And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart?
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Introductory Lines."
(0) (0)
An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick, unless Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing For every tatter in its mortal dress.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. Sailing to Byzantium, st. 2, The Tower (1928).
(0) (0)
Irrational streams of blood are staining earth; Empedocles has thrown all things about; Hector is dead and there's a light in Troy; We that look on but laugh in tragic joy.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Gyres."
(0) (0)
And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend Cried out, Dim sea, hear my most piteous story! The sea swept on and cried her old cry still, Rolling along in dreams from hill to hill. He fled the persecution of her glory....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Sad Shepherd."
(0) (0)
Remember all those renowned generations, Remember all that have sunk in their blood, Remember all that have died on the scaffold, Remember all that have fled, that have stood, Stood, took death like a tune On an old tambourine.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Three Marching Songs."
(0) (0)