William Butler Yeats Poems

SHE lived in storm and strife,
Her soul had such desire
For what proud death may bring
That it could not endure
...

MIDNIGHT has come, and the great Christ Church Bell
And may a lesser bell sound through the room;
And it is All Souls' Night,
...

I HAVE heard that hysterical women say
They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow.
Of poets that are always gay,
For everybody knows or else should know
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BLESSED be this place,
More blessed still this tower;
A bloody, arrogant power
Rose out of the race
...

GOD guard me from those thoughts men think
In the mind alone;
He that sings a lasting song
Thinks in a marrow-bone;
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A crazy man that found a cup,
When all but dead of thirst,
Hardly dared to wet his mouth
Imagining, moon-accursed,
...

AH, that Time could touch a form
That could show what Homer's age
Bred to be a hero's wage.
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ALTHOUGH I can see him still.
The freckled man who goes
To a grey place on a hill
In grey Connemara clothes
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He. Dear, I must be gone
While night Shuts the eyes
Of the household spies;
That song announces dawn.
...

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
...