William Butler Yeats Quotes

Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose, Enfold me in my hour of hours; where those Who sought thee in the Holy Sepulchre, Or in the wine-vat, dwell beyond the stir And tumult of defeated dreams....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Secret Rose."
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For how can you compete, Being honor bred, with one Who, were it proved he lies, Were neither shamed in his own Nor in his neighbors' eyes?
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. To a Friend Whose Work Has Come to Nothing (l. 4-8). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
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O bid me mount and sail up there Amid the cloudy wrack, For Peg and Meg and Paris' love That had so straight a back, Are gone away, and some that stay Have changed their silk for sack.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "X. His Wildness."
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What made the drapery glisten so? Not a man but Delacroix.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "A Nativity."
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The chief imagination of Christendom, Dante Alighieri, so utterly found himself That he has made that hollow face of his More plain to the mind's eye than any face But that of Christ.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Ego Dominus Tuus."
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And I that have not your faith, how shall I know That in the blinding light beyond the grave We'll find so good a thing as that we have lost?
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "King and No King."
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"All day long from mid-day We have talked in the one place, All day long from shadowless noon We have gone round and round In the narrow theme of love Like an old horse in a pound."
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Solomon to Sheba."
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For all life longs for the Last Day And there's no man but cocks his ear To know when Michael's trumpet cries That flesh and bone may disappear, And souls as if they were but sighs, And there be nothing but God left....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Hour Before Dawn."
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Thy great leaves enfold The ancient beards, the helms of ruby and gold Of the crowned Magi; and the king whose eyes Saw the Pierced Hands and Rood of elder rise In Druid vapour and make the torches dim....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Secret Rose."
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She carries in the dishes, And lays them in a row. To an isle in the water With her would I go.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "To an Isle in the Water."
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