W.B. Yeats
Author profile
born
June 13, 1865
in Sandymount, County Dublin, Ireland
died
January 28, 1939
gender
male
genre
influences
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The Collected Poems
by W.B. Yeats, Richard J. Finneran — published 1938 — 21 editions |
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Irish Fairy and Folk Tales
— published 1892 — 83 editions |
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Selected Poems and Four Plays
by W.B. Yeats, Macha Louis Rosenthal — published 1996 — 2 editions |
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The Celtic Twilight: Faerie and Folklore
— published 1962 — 54 editions |
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Selected Poems
by W.B. Yeats, John Kelly — published 1991 — 16 editions |
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Treasury of Irish Myth, Legend & Folklore
by W.B. Yeats, Augusta Gregory — published 1986 |
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The Collected Works, Vol. 1: The Poems
by W.B. Yeats, Richard J. Finneran — published 1990 |
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The Yeats Reader: A Portable Compendium of Poetry, Drama, and Prose
— published 1997 — 8 editions |
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Mythologies
— published 1969 — 5 editions |
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Easter 1916 and Other Poems
by W.B. Yeats, Dover Thrift Editions — published 1997 |
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”
― W.B. Yeats
― W.B. Yeats
“Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”
― W.B. Yeats, The Wind Among the Reeds 1899
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”
― W.B. Yeats, The Wind Among the Reeds 1899
“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 look
Your 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 bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.”
― W.B. Yeats
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 look
Your 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 bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.”
― W.B. Yeats
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