Poems by William Butler Yeats

Never give all the heart, for loveWill hardly seem worth thinking ofTo passionate women if it see...

I have met them at close of dayComing with vivid facesFrom counter or desk among greyEighteenth-c...

IWhat shall I do with this absurdity—O heart, O troubled heart—thi...

Autumn is over the long leaves that love us,And over the mice in the barley sheaves;Yellow the le...

I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand,...

Time drops in decay,Like a candle burnt out,And the mountains and the woodsHave their day, have t...

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

(Song from an Unfinished Play)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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