A Cradle Song par W. B. Yeats THE angels are stooping Above your bed; They weary of trooping With the whimpering dead. God’s laughing in Heaven
Old Memory par W. B. Yeats O THOUGHT, fly to her when the Awakens an old memory, and say, ‘Your strength, that is so lofty a It might call up a new age, callin The queens that were imagined long
The Countess Cathleen in Paradise par W. B. Yeats ALL the heavy days are over; Leave the body’s coloured pride Underneath the grass and clover, With the feet laid side by side. Bathed in flaming founts of duty
Down by the Salley Gardens par W. B. Yeats Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, 1 1
At Galway Races par W. B. Yeats THERE where the course is, Delight makes all of the one mind, The riders upon the galloping hors The crowd that closes in behind: We, too, had good attendance once,
A First Confession par W. B. Yeats I admit the briar Entangled in my hair Did not injure me; My blenching and trembling, Nothing but dissembling,
Running to Paradise par W. B. Yeats As I came over Windy Gap They threw a halfpenny into my cap For I am running to paradise; And all that I need do is to wish And somebody puts his hand in the
Supernatural Songs par W. B. Yeats Ribb at the Tomb of Baile and Ai BECAUSE you have found me in th With open book you ask me what I Mark and digest my tale, carry it To those that never saw this tonsu
Michael Robartes and the Dancer par W. B. Yeats He. Opinion is not worth a rush; In this altar-piece the knight, Who grips his long spear so to pus That dragon through the fading lig Loved the lady; and it’s plain
The Old Age of Queen Maeve par W. B. Yeats A certain poet in outlandish cloth Gathered a crowd in some Byzantin Talked1 of his country and its peo To some stringed instrument none t A wall behind his back, over his h