All Poems
/ page 1508 of 3210 /Colonus' Praise
© William Butler Yeats
(From Oedipus at Colonus)Chorus. Come praise Colonus' horses, and come praise
The wine-dark of the wood's intricacies,
The nightingale that deafens daylight there,
If daylight ever visit where,
When Helen Lived
© William Butler Yeats
We have cried in our despair
That men desert,
For some trivial affair
Or noisy, insolent sport,
The Madness Of King Goll
© William Butler Yeats
I sat on cushioned otter-skin:
My word was law from Ith to Emain,
And shook at Inver Amergin
The hearts of the world-troubling seamen,
Three Marching Songs
© William Butler Yeats
Remember all those renowned generations,
They left their bodies to fatten the wolves,
They left their homesteads to fatten the foxes,
Fled to far countries, or sheltered themselves
In cavern, crevice, or hole,
Defending Ireland's soul.
A Woman Homer Sung
© William Butler Yeats
If any man drew near
When I was young,
I thought, 'He holds her dear,'
And shook with hate and fear.
Cuchulan's Fight With The Sea
© William Butler Yeats
A man came slowly from the setting sun,
To Emer, raddling raiment in her dun,
And said, 'I am that swineherd whom you bid
Go watch the road between the wood and tide,
But now I have no need to watch it more.'
The Tower
© William Butler Yeats
IWhat shall I do with this absurdity -
O heart, O troubled heart - this caricature,
Decrepit age that has been tied to me
As to a dog's tail?
The Lady's Third Song
© William Butler Yeats
When you and my true lover meet
And he plays tunes between your feet.
Speak no evil of the soul,
Nor think that body is the whole,
The Crazed Moon
© William Butler Yeats
Crazed through much child-bearing
The moon is staggering in the sky;
Moon-struck by the despairing
Glances of her wandering eye
We grope, and grope in vain,
For children born of her pain.
The Old Stone Cross
© William Butler Yeats
A statesman is an easy man,
He tells his lies by rote;
A journalist makes up his lies
And takes you by the throat;
Red Hanrahan's Song About Ireland
© William Butler Yeats
The old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand,
Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;
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.
A Stick Of Incense
© William Butler Yeats
Whence did all that fury come?
From empty tomb or Virgin womb?
Saint Joseph thought the world would melt
But liked the way his finger smelt.
To A Young Girl
© William Butler Yeats
My dear, my dear, I know
More than another
What makes your heart beat so;
Not even your own mother
Crazy Jane On The Mountain
© William Butler Yeats
I am tired of cursing the Bishop,
(Said Crazy Jane)
Nine books or nine hats
Would not make him a man.
The Peacock
© William Butler Yeats
What's riches to him
That has made a great peacock
With the pride of his eye?
The wind-beaten, stone-grey,
Crazy Jane Reproved
© William Butler Yeats
I care not what the sailors say:
All those dreadful thunder-stones,
All that storm that blots the day
Can but show that Heaven yawns;
Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake
© William Butler Yeats
What is the good of a man and he
Alone and alone, with a speckled shin?
I would that I drank with my love on my knee
Between two barrels at the inn.
Oro, oro!
To-morrow night I will break down the door.
He Tells Of The Perfect Beauty
© William Butler Yeats
O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,
The poets labouring all their days
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme
Are overthrown by a woman's gaze
Solomon And The Witch
© William Butler Yeats
And thus declared that Arab lady:
'Last night, where under the wild moon
On grassy mattress I had laid me,
Within my arms great Solomon,
His Dream
© William Butler Yeats
I swayed upon the gaudy stem
The butt-end of a steering-oar,
And saw wherever I could turn
A crowd upon a shore.