No Second Troy


Why should I blame her that she filled my daysWith misery, or that she would of lateHave taught to ignorant men most violent ways,Or hurled the little streets upon the great,Had they but courage equal to desire?What could have made her peaceful with a mindThat nobleness made simple as a fire,With beauty like a tightened bow, a kindThat is not natural in an age like this,Being high and solitary...

The Lake Isle of Innisfree


I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,And...

Breasal The Fisherman


Although you hide in the ebb and flowOf the pale tide when the moon has set,The people of coming days will knowAbout the casting out of my net,And how you have leaped times out of mindOver the little silver cords,And think that you were hard and unkind,And blame you with many bitter words

William Butler Yeats (June 13, 1865 – January 28, 1939)

When you are old


When you are old and grey and full of sleep,And nodding by the fire, take down this book,And slowly read, and dream of the soft lookYour eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace,And loved your beauty with love false or true,But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing...

Down by the salley gardens


Down by the salley gardens my love an I did meet;She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feetShe bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree. In a field by the river my love and I did stand,And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;But I was...

To a child dancing in the wind


Dance there upon the shore;What need have you to carefor wind or water’s roar?and tumble out your airthat the salt drops have wet;being young you have not knownthe fool’s triumph, not yetlove lost has soon as won,nor the best labourer deadand all the sheaves to bind.what need have you to dreadthe monstrous crying of wind?

William Butler Yeats. (England 1865-1939)