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; — W. B. Yeats, from “When You Are Old,” The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats. Edited by Richard J. Finneran, (Scribner,… Continue reading W. B. Yeats
Where the world ends The mind is made unchanging, for it finds Miracle, ecstasy, the impossible hope, The flagstone under all, the fire of fires, The roots of the world– — W. B. Yeats, from The Shadowy Waters: A Dramatic Poem. (Kessinger Publishing, LLC, June 17, 2004) Originally published 1900.
Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry. — W. B. Yeats
Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun. — … Continue reading W. B. Yeats
Some moralist or mythological poet Compares the solitary soul to a swan; I am satisfied with that, Satisfied if a troubled mirror show it, Before that brief gleam of its life be gone, An image of its state; The wings half spread for flight, The breast thrust out in pride Whether to play, or to… Continue reading W. B. Yeats
Does the imagination dwell the most Upon a woman won or woman lost? If on the lost, admit you turned aside From a great labyrinth out of pride, … some silly over-subltle thought Or anything called conscience once; And that if memory recur, the sun’s Under eclipse and the day blotted out. — W. B.… Continue reading W. B. Yeats
Now as at all times I can see in the mind’s eye, In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones Appear and disappear in the blue depths of the sky With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones, And all their helms of silver hovering side by side, And all their eyes still fixed,… Continue reading W. B. Yeats