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    Two Books of Poetry
    Two Books of Poetry
    Two Books of Poetry
    Ebook123 pages1 hour

    Two Books of Poetry

    By William Butler Yeats

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    This file includes: "Green Helmet and Other Poems" (first published in 1911) and In the Seven Woods: being poems chiefly of the Irish heroic age" (first published in 1903). The active table of contents has links to each poem. The verse plays "The Green Helmet, a Heroic Farce" and "On Baile's Strand" are included in those collections. According to Wikipedia: "William Butler Yeats (13 June 1865 - 28 January 1939) was an Irish poet, dramatist, and one of the foremost figures of 20th century literature. A pillar of both the Irish and British literary establishments, in his later years Yeats served as an Irish Senator for two terms. He was a driving force behind the Irish Literary Revival, and along with Lady Gregory and Edward Martyn founded the Abbey Theatre, serving as its chief during its early years. In 1923, he was awarded a Nobel Prize in Literature for what the Nobel Committee described as "inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation." He was the first Irishman so honored. Yeats is generally considered one of the few writers whose greatest works were completed after being awarded the Nobel Prize; such works include The Tower (1928) and The Winding Stair and Other Poems (1929). Yeats was born and educated in Dublin, but spent his childhood in County Sligo. He studied poetry in his youth, and from an early age was fascinated by both Irish legends and the occult. Those topics feature in the first phase of his work, which lasted roughly until the turn of the century. His earliest volume of verse was published in 1889, and those slowly paced and lyrical poems display debts to Edmund Spenser and Percy Bysshe Shelley, as well as to the lyricism of the Pre-Raphaelite poets. From 1900, Yeats' poetry grew more physical and realistic. He largely renounced the transcendental beliefs of his youth, though he remained preoccupied with physical and spiritual masks, as well as with cyclical theories of life."

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSeltzer Books
    Release dateMar 1, 2018
    ISBN9781455393008
    Two Books of Poetry

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      Book preview

      Two Books of Poetry - William Butler Yeats

      Two Books of Poetry by Yeats

      _____________

      Published by Seltzer Books. seltzerbooks.com

      established in 1974, as B&R Samizdat Express

      offering over 14,000 books

      feedback welcome: seltzer@seltzerbooks.com

      ________________

      Green Helmet and Other Poems

      His Dream

      A Woman Homer Sung

      That the Night Come

      Consolation

      Friends

      No Second Troy

      Reconciliation

      King and No King

      The Cold Heaven

      Peace

      Against Unworthy Peace

      The Fascination of What's Difficult

      A Drinking Song

      The Coming of Wisdom with Time

      On Hearing that the Students of Our New University...

      To a Poet Who Would Have Me Praise Certain Bad Poets

      The Attack on the Play Boy

      A Lyric from an Unpublished Play

      Upon a House Shaken by the Land Agitation

      At the Abbey Theater

      These Are the Clouds

      At Galway Races

      A Friend's Illness

      All Things Can Tempt Me

      The Young Man's Song

      The Green Helmet, a Heroic Farce

      In the Seven Woods, being poems chiefly of the Irish heroic age

      In the Seven Woods

      The Old Age of Queen Maeve

      Baile and Aillinin

      The Arrow

      The Folly of Being Comforted

      The Withering of the Boughs

      Adam's Curse

      The Song of Red Hanrahan

      The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the Water

      Under the Moon

      The Players Ask for a Blessing...

      The Rider from the North (from the play The Country of the Young)

      On Baile's Strand, a play

      _______________

      THE GREEN HELMET AND OTHER POEMS

      BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

                 NEW YORK

           THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

        LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.

                   1912

           _All rights reserved_

        Copyright, 1911, by

        WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

        Copyright, 1912, by

        THE MACMILLAN CO.

        _Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1912_

            THE GREEN HELMET AND

                OTHER POEMS

      HIS DREAM

        I swayed upon the gaudy stern

        The butt end of a steering oar,

        And everywhere that I could turn

        Men ran upon the shore.

        And though I would have hushed the crowd

        There was no mother's son but said,

        "What is the figure in a shroud

        Upon a gaudy bed?"

        And fishes bubbling to the brim

        Cried out upon that thing beneath,

        It had such dignity of limb,

        By the sweet name of Death.

        Though I'd my finger on my lip,

        What could I but take up the song?

        And fish and crowd and gaudy ship

        Cried out the whole night long,

        Crying amid the glittering sea,

        Naming it with ecstatic breath,

        Because it had such dignity

        By the sweet name of Death.

      A WOMAN HOMER SUNG

        If any man drew near

        When I was young,

        I thought, He holds her dear,

        And shook with hate and fear.

        But oh, 'twas bitter wrong

        If he could pass her by

        With an indifferent eye.

        Whereon I wrote and wrought,

        And now, being gray,

        I dream that I have brought

        To such a pitch my thought

        That coming time can say,

        "He shadowed in a glass

        What thing her body was."

        For she had fiery blood

        When I was young,

        And trod so sweetly proud

        As 'twere upon a cloud,

        A woman Homer sung,

        That life and letters seem

        But an heroic dream.

      THAT THE NIGHT COME

        She lived in storm and strife.

        Her soul had such desire

        For what proud death may bring

        That it could not endure

        The common good of life,

        But lived as 'twere a king

        That packed his marriage day

        With banneret and pennon,

        Trumpet and kettledrum,

        And the outrageous cannon,

        To bundle Time away

        That the night come.

      THE CONSOLATION

        I had this thought awhile ago,

        "My darling cannot understand

        What I have done, or what would do

        In this blind bitter land."

        And I grew weary of the sun

        Until my thoughts cleared up again,

        Remembering that the best I have done

        Was done to make it plain;

        That every year I have cried, "At length

        My darling understands it all,

        Because I have come into my strength,

        And words obey my call."

        That had she done so who can say

        What would have shaken from the sieve?

        I might have thrown poor words away

        And been content to live.

      FRIENDS

        Now must I these three praise--

        Three women that have wrought

        What joy is in my days;

        One that no passing thought,

        Nor those unpassing cares,

        No, not in these fifteen

        Many times troubled years,

        Could ever come between

        Heart and delighted heart;

        And one because her hand

        Had strength that could unbind

        What none can understand,

        What none can have and thrive,

        Youth's dreamy load, till she

        So changed me that I live

        Labouring in ecstasy.

        And what of her that took

        All till my youth was gone

        With scarce a pitying look?

        How should I praise that one?

        When day begins to break

        I count my good and bad,

        Being wakeful for her sake,

        Remembering what she had,

        What eagle look still shows,

        While up from my heart's root

        So great a sweetness flows

        I shake from head to foot.

      NO SECOND TROY

        Why should I blame her that she filled my days

        With misery, or that she would of late

        Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,

        Or hurled the little streets upon the great,

        Had they but courage equal to desire?

        What could have made her peaceful with a mind

        That nobleness made simple as a fire,

        With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind

        That is not natural in an age like this,

        Being high and solitary and most stern?

        Why, what could she have done being what she is?

        Was

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