All Poems

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The Heart Of The Woman

© William Butler Yeats

O what to me the little room
That was brimmed up with prayer and rest;
He bade me out into the gloom,
And my breast lies upon his breast.

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Young Man's Song

© William Butler Yeats

'She will change,' I cried.
'Into a withered crone.'
The heart in my side,
That so still had lain,
In noble rage replied
And beat upon the bone:

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Symbols

© William Butler Yeats

A storm-beaten old watch-tower,
A blind hermit rings the hour.All-destroying sword-blade still
Carried by the wandering fool.Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
Beauty and fool together laid.

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To Be Carved On A Stone At Thoor Ballylee

© William Butler Yeats

I, the poet William Yeats,
With old mill boards and sea-green slates,
And smithy work from the Gort forge,
Restored this tower for my wife George;
And may these characters remain
When all is ruin once again.

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His Phoenix

© William Butler Yeats

There is a queen in China, or maybe it's in Spain,
And birthdays and holidays such praises can be heard
Of her unblemished lineaments, a whiteness with no stain,
That she might be that sprightly girl trodden by a bird;

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A Memory Of Youth

© William Butler Yeats

The moments passed as at a play;
I had the wisdom love brings forth;
I had my share of mother-wit,
And yet for all that I could say,

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The Secret Rose

© William Butler Yeats

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

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All Things Can Tempt Me

© William Butler Yeats

All things can tempt me from this craft of verse:
One time it was a woman's face, or worse -
The seeming needs of my fool-driven land;
Now nothing but comes readier to the hand

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The Leaders Of The Crowd

© William Butler Yeats

They must to keep their certainty accuse
All that are different of a base intent;
Pull down established honour; hawk for news
Whatever their loose fantasy invent

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Words

© William Butler Yeats

I had this thought a while ago,
'My darling cannot understand
What I have done, or what would do
In this blind bitter land.'

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A Dream Of Death

© William Butler Yeats

I dreamed that one had died in a strange place
Near no accustomed hand,
And they had nailed the boards above her face,
The peasants of that land,

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A Man Young And Old: I. First Love

© William Butler Yeats

Though nurtured like the sailing moon
In beauty's murderous brood,
She walked awhile and blushed awhile
And on my pathway stood
Until I thought her body bore
A heart of flesh and blood.

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The Rose Of The World

© William Butler Yeats

Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream?
For these red lips, with all their mournful pride,
Mournful that no new wonder may betide,
Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam,
And Usna's children died.

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The Man Who Dreamed Of Faeryland

© William Butler Yeats

He stood among a crowd at Dromahair;
His heart hung all upon a silken dress,
And he had known at last some tenderness,
Before earth took him to her stony care;

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The Wanderings of Oisin: Book I

© William Butler Yeats

S. Patrick. You who are bent, and bald, and blind,
With a heavy heart and a wandering mind,
Have known three centuries, poets sing,
Of dalliance with a demon thing.

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Three Songs To The One Burden

© William Butler Yeats

IThe Roaring Tinker if you like,
But Mannion is my name,
And I beat up the common sort
And think it is no shame.

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A Faery Song

© William Butler Yeats

We who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:

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Before The World Was Made

© William Butler Yeats

If I make the lashes dark
And the eyes more bright
And the lips more scarlet,
Or ask if all be right

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Mad As The Mist And Snow

© William Butler Yeats

Bolt and bar the shutter,
For the foul winds blow:
Our minds are at their best this night,
And I seem to know
That everything outside us is
Mad as the mist and snow.

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Fergus And The Druid

© William Butler Yeats

Fergus. This would I say, most wise of living souls:
Young subtle Conchubar sat close by me
When I gave judgment, and his words were wise,
And what to me was burden without end,
To him seemed easy, so I laid the crown
Upon his head to cast away my sorrow.