The Death of Cuchulain by W. B. Yeats The harlot sang to the beggar-man. I meet them face to face, Conall, Cuchulain, Usna’s boys, All that most ancient race; Maeve had three in an hour, they s
The Wanderings of Oisin: Book III by W. B. Yeats Fled foam underneath us, and round High as the Saddle-girth, coverin And those that fled, and that foll The immortal desire of Immortals I mused on the chase with the Fen
The Three Bushes by W. B. Yeats SAID lady once to lover, ‘None can rely upon A love that lacks its proper food; And if your love were gone How could you sing those songs of
On Being Asked for a War Poem by W. B. Yeats I THINK it better that in times A poet’s mouth be silent, for in t We have no gift to set a statesman He has had enough of meddling who A young girl in the indolence of h
To a Child Dancing in the Wind by W. B. Yeats DANCE there upon the shore; What need have you to care For wind or water’s roar? And tumble out your hair That the salt drops have wet;
The Travail of Passion by W. B. Yeats WHEN the flaming lute-thronged a When an immortal passion breathes Our hearts endure the scourge, the Crowded with bitter faces, the wou The vinegar-heavy sponge, the flow
The Choice by W. B. Yeats The intellect of man is forced to perfection of the life, or of the And if it take the second must ref A heavenly mansion, raging in the When all that story’s finished, wh
The Player Queen by W. B. Yeats (Song from an Unfinished Play) My mother dandled me and sang, ‘How young it is, how young!’ And made a golden cradle That on a willow swung.
Symbols by W. B. Yeats A STORM BEATEN old watch-tow A blind hermit rings the hour. All-destroying sword-blade still Carried by the wandering fool. Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
An Buachaill Coal Dubh
about 1 yearStill my absolute favourite. Yeats, you understand. God rest yer soul, sweet man, I feel you speaking from beneath Ben Bulben, Co. Sligo.