Search Results for: poetry at work

<Return to All WB Yeats The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner Although I shelter from the rain Under a broken tree My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics, Ere Time transfigured me. Though lads are making pikes again For some conspiracy, And crazy rascals rage their […]

<Return to All WB Yeats The Man Who Dreamed of Faeryland He stood among a crowd at Drumahair; His heart hung all upon a silken dress, And he had known at last some tenderness, Before earth made of him her sleepy care; But when a man poured fish into a pile, It seemed they raised […]

<Return to All WB Yeats Who Goes With Fergus Who will go drive with Fergus now, And pierce the deep wood’s woven shade, And dance upon the level shore? Young man, lift up your russet brow, And lift your tender eyelids, maid, And brood on hopes and fears no more. And no more turn aside […]

<Return to All WB Yeats A Dream of a Blessed Spirit All the heavy days are over; Leave the body’s colored pride Underneath the grass and clover, With the feet laid side by side. One with her are mirth and duty, Bear the gold embroidered dress, For she needs not her sad beauty, To the […]

<Return to All WB Yeats A Dream of Death I dreamed that one had died in a strange place Near no accustomed hand; And they had nailed the boards above her face The peasants of that land, Wondering to lay her in that solitude, And raised above her mound A cross they had made out […]

<Return to All WB Yeats To the Rose upon the Rood of Time Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days! Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways: Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide; The Druid, gray, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed, Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold; And thine own sadness, […]

<Return to All WB Yeats The White Birds I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea! We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee; And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky, Has […]

<Return to All WB Yeats When You Are Old When you are old and gray and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And […]

<Return to All WB Yeats The Sorrow of Love The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves, The full round moon and the star-laden sky, And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves, Had hid away earth’s old and weary cry. And then you came with those red mournful lips, And with you came the […]

<Return to All WB Yeats The Pity of Love A pity beyond all telling Is hid in the heart of love: The folk who are buying and selling The clouds on their journey above The cold wet winds ever blowing And the shadowy hazel grove Where mouse-gray waters are flowing Threaten the head that I […]

< Return to All WB Yeats A Cradle Song “Coth yani me von gilli beg, ‘N heur ve thu more a creena.” The angels are stooping Above your bed; They weary of trooping With the whimpering dead. God’s laughing in heaven To see you so good; The Shining Seven Are gay with His mood. I […]

<Return to All WB Yeats The Lake Isle of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have […]

<Return to All WB Yeats The Rose of Peace If Michael, leader of God’s host When Heaven and Hell are met, Looked down on you from Heaven’s door-post He would his deeds forget. Brooding no more upon God’s wars In his Divine homestead, He would go weave out of the stars A chaplet for your […]

<Return to All WB Yeats The Rose of the World Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream? For these red lips, with all their mournful pride, Mournful that no new wonder may betide, Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam, And Usna’s children died. We and the laboring world are passing by: Amid […]

< Return to All John Keats Women, Wine, and Snuff Give me women, wine and snuff Until I cry out «hold, enough!» You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection; For bless my beard they aye shall be My beloved Trinity. -John Keats Enjoy Artistic Representations of “Women, Wine, and Snuff” by […]

< Return to All John Keats Where By Ye Going, You Devon Maid When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain, Before high pil`d books, in charact’ry, Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face, Huge cloudy symbols […]