- Poetry
The Players Ask For A Blessing On The Psalteries And On Themselves by William Butler Yeats
i(Three Voices together].) Hurry to bless the hands that play,The mouths that speak, the notes and strings,O masters of the…
Read More » - Poetry
The Player Queen by William Butler Yeats
My mother dandled me and sang,How young it is, how young!And made a golden cradleThat on a willow swung. He…
Read More » - Poetry
The Pilgrim by William Butler Yeats
I fasted for some forty days on bread and buttermilk,For passing round the bottle with girls in rags or silk,In…
Read More » - Poetry
The Phases of the Moon by William Butler Yeats
An old man cocked his ear upon a bridge;He and his friend, their faces to the South,Had trod the uneven…
Read More » - Poetry
The People by William Butler Yeats
What have I earned for all that work, I said,For all that I have done at my own charge?The daily…
Read More » - Poetry
The Peacock by William Butler Yeats
What’s riches to himThat has made a great peacockWith the pride of his eye?The wind-beaten, stone-grey,And desolate Three-rockWould nourish his…
Read More » - Poetry
The ORahilly by William Butler Yeats
Sing of the O’Rahilly,Do not deny his right;Sing a “the’ before his name;Allow that he, despiteAll those learned historians,Established it…
Read More » - Poetry
The Old Stone Cross by William Butler Yeats
A statesman is an easy man,He tells his lies by rote;A journalist makes up his liesAnd takes you by the…
Read More » - Poetry
The Old Men Admiring Themselves In The Water by William Butler Yeats
I heard the old, old men say,“Everything alters,And one by one we drop away.”They had hands like claws, and their…
Read More » - Poetry
The Old Age Of Queen Maeve by William Butler Yeats
i(A certain poet in outlandish clothes)i(Gathered a crowd in some Byzantine lane,)i(Talked1 of his country and its people, sang)i(To some…
Read More »
