Poeticous Logo
en
English Español Français Italiano
W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

The Balloon of the Mind

HANDS, do what you’re bid;    
Bring the balloon of the mind    
That bellies and drags in the wind    
Into its narrow shed.

The Wild Swans at Coole. 1919.

#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury

Enjoyed this read? Treat us to a coffee!.
Your help allows us to exist.
Other works by W. B. Yeats...
Death

Nor dread nor hope attend A dying animal; A man awaits his end Dreading and hoping all; Many times he died,
 3
To a Friend Whose Work Has Come to Nothing

NOW all the truth is out, Be secret and take defeat From any brazen throat, For how can you compete, Being honour bred, with one
Lines Written in Dejection

WHEN have I last looked on The round green eyes and the long… Of the dark leopards of the moon? All the wild witches, those most n… For all their broom-sticks and the…
A Man Young and Old: VII. the Friends of His Youth

Laughter not time destroyed my voi… And put that crack in it, And when the moon’s pot-bellied I get a laughing fit, For that old Madge comes down the…
Adam's Curse

We sat together at one summer’s en… That beautiful mild woman, your cl… And you and I, and talked of poet… I said, ‘A line will take us hour… Yet if it does not seem a moment’s…
 2
A Man Young and Old: XI. From Oedipus at Colonus

Endure what life God gives and as… Cease to remember the delights of… Delight becomes death-longing if a… Even from that delight memory trea… Death, despair, division of famili…
The Ballad of the Foxhunter

‘Lay me in a cushioned chair; Carry me, ye four, With cushions here and cushions th… To see the world once more. ’To stable and to kennel go;
Her Vision in the Wood

Dry timber under that rich foliage… At wine-dark midnight in the sacre… Too old for a man’s love I stood… Imagining men. Imagining that I… A greater with a lesser pang assua…
 1
The Mountain Tomb

POUR wine and dance if manhood s… Bring roses if the rose be yet in… The cataract smokes upon the mount… Our Father Rosicross is in his to… Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle…
Crazy Jane Reproved

I care not what the sailors say: All those dreadful thunder-stones, All that storm that blots the day Can but show that Heaven yawns; Great Europa played the fool
Friends

Now must I these three praise— Three women that have wrought What joy is in my days: One because no thought, Nor those unpassing cares,
Old Tom Again

Things out of perfection sail, And all their swelling canvas wear… Nor shall the self-begotten fail Though fantastic men suppose Building-yard and stormy shore,
Shepherd and Goatherd

Shepherd. That cry’s from the fir… I wished before it ceased. Goatherd. Nor bird n… Could make me wish for anything th… Being old, but that the old alone…
The Winding Stair and Other Poems

IN MEMORY OF EVA GORE… THE light of evening, Lissadell, Great windows open to the south, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle.
The Mother of God

The threefold terror of love; a fa… Through the hollow of an ear; Wings beating about the room; The terror of all terrors that I… The Heavens in my womb.
 1



Top