Poems by William Butler Yeats

Poems by William Butler Yeats

Youth and Age, by William Butler Yeats

Much did I rage when young,Being by the World oppressed,But now with flattering tongueIt speeds t...

The Road at My Door, by William Butler Yeats

An affable Irregular,A heavily-built Falstaffan man,Comes cracking jokes of civil warAs though to...

VI—The Stare’s Nest By My Window , by William Butler Yeats

The bees build in the crevicesOf loosening masonry, and thereThe mother birds bring grubs and fli...

My Table, by William Butler Yeats

Two heavy tressels, and a boardWhere Sato’s gift, a changeless sword,By pen and paper lies,That i...

My Descendants, by William Butler Yeats

Having inherited a vigorous mindFrom my old fathers I must nourish dreamsAnd leave a woman and a ...

The Young Man's Song, by William Butler Yeats

I whispered, "I am too young,"
And then, "I am old enough";
Wherefore I threw a penny
To ...

The Sorrow of Love, by William Butler Yeats

The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the l...

The Player Queen, by William Butler Yeats

(Song from an Unfinished Play)


My mother dandled me and sang,
'How young it is, how young!' ...

Adam's Curse, by William Butler Yeats

We sat together at one summer's end,
That beautiful mild woman, your close friend,
And you and I,...

A Drinking Song, by William Butler Yeats

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That’s all we shall know for truth...

The Fisherman, by William Butler Yeats

Although I can see him still,
The freckled man who goes
To a grey place on a hill
In grey Connema...

Who goes with Fergus?, by William Butler Yeats

Who will go drive with Fergus now,
And pierce the deep wood's woven shade,
And dance upon the l...

The Wild Swans at Coole, by William Butler Yeats

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight ...

The Magi, by William Butler Yeats

Now as at all times I can see in the mind's eye,In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatis...

The Balloon of the Mind, by William Butler Yeats

Hands, do what you're bid:Bring the balloon of the mindThat bellies and drags in the windInto its...