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Earth in beauty dressed Awaits returning spring. All true love must die, Alter at the best Into some lesser thing. Prove that I lie.

William Butler Yeats

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William Butler Yeats
Age: 73 †
Born: 1865
Born: June 13
Died: 1939
Died: January 28
Astrologer
Mystic
Playwright
Poet
Politician
Writer
Scrooby
Nottinghamshire
W. B. Yeats
William Yeats
W.B. Yeats
Lying
Returning
True
Alter
Earth
Dressed
Best
Spring
Must
Prove
Thing
Loss
Love
Beauty
Awaits
Dies
Lesser

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This melancholy London - I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air.
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I say that Roger Casement Did what he had to do, He died upon the gallows But that is nothing new.
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When I play on my fiddle in Dooney Folk dance like a wave on the sea.
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By logic and reason we die hourly by imagination we live.
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Is it not certain that the Creator yawns in earthquake and thunder and other popular displays, but toils in rounding the delicate spiral of a shell? -Yeats, The Trembling of the Veil
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How could passion run so deep Had I never thought That the crime of being born Blackens all our lot?
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John Synge, I and Augusta Gregory, thought All that we did, all that we said or sang Must come from contact with the soil, from that Contact everything Antaeus-like grew strong.
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The falcon cannot hear the falconer
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It is so many years before one can believe enough in what one feels even to know what the feeling is
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The things a man has heard and seen are threads of life, and if he pull them carefully from the confused distaff of memory, any who will can weave them into whatever garments of belief please them best. I too have woven my garment like another, but I shall try to keep warm in it, and shall be well content if it do not unbecome me.
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For men were born to pray and save: Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave.
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The house ghost is usually a harmless and well-meaning creature. It is put up with as long as possible. It brings good luck to those who live with it.
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If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.
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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.
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One should not lose one's temper unless one is certain of getting more and more angry to the end.
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Eyes spiritualised by death can judge, I cannot, but I am not content.
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When such as I cast out remorse So great a sweetness flows into the breast We must laugh and we must sing, We are blest by everything, Everything we look upon is blessed.
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Bodily decrepitude is wisdom young We loved each other and were ignorant.
William Butler Yeats
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How can I, that girl standing there, My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics?
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Was it for this the wild geese spread The gray wing upon every tide For this that all that blood was shed, For this. Edward Fitzgerald died, And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone, All that delirium of the brave? Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave.
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