William Butler Yeats Quotes

But Father John went up, And Father John went down; And he wore small holes in his shoes, And he wore large holes in his gown.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Ballad of Father O'Hart."
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My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics, Ere Time transfigured me.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner."
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Of old the world on dreaming fed; Grey Truth is now her painted toy....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Song of the Happy Shepherd."
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From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "To Ireland in the Coming Times."
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Sang a bone upon the shore; "A man if I but held him so When my body was alive Found all the pleasure that life gave": A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "XV. Three Things."
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An intellectual hatred is the worst, So let her think opinions are accursed.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. A Prayer for My Daughter, st. 8, Michael Robartes and the Dancer (1920).
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Being wakeful for her sake, Remembering what she had, What eagle look still shows, While up from my heart's root So great a sweetness flows I shake from head to foot.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Friends."
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She thinks, part woman, three parts a child, That nobody looks; her feet Practise a tinker shuffle Picked up on a street.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet. Long-legged Fly (l. 15-18). . . The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats. Richard J. Finneran, ed. (1989) Macmillan.
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But if when anyone died Came keeners hoarser than rooks, He bade them give over their keening; For he was a man of books.
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Ballad of Father O'Hart."
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There's not a woman turns her face Upon a broken tree, And yet the beauties that I loved Are in my memory....
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner."
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