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    The Wind Among The Reeds & Other Poems: “Love comes in at the eye.”
    The Wind Among The Reeds & Other Poems: “Love comes in at the eye.”
    The Wind Among The Reeds & Other Poems: “Love comes in at the eye.”
    Ebook55 pages2 hours

    The Wind Among The Reeds & Other Poems: “Love comes in at the eye.”

    By W B Yeats

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    About this ebook

    William Butler Yeats (1865 – 1939) is best described as Ireland’s national poet in addition to being one of the major twentieth-century literary figures of the English tongue. To many literary critics, Yeats represents the ‘Romantic poet of modernism,’ which is quite revealing about his extraordinary style that combines between the outward emphasis on the expression of emotions and the extensive use of symbolism, imagery and allusions. Yeats also wrote prose and drama and established himself as the spokesman of the Irish cause. His fame was greatly boosted mainly after he received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1923. His life was marked by his many love stories, by his great interest in oriental mysticism and occultism as well as by political engagement since he served as an Irish senator for two terms. Today, although William Butler Yeats’s contribution to literary modernism and to Irish nationalism remains incontestable. Here we publish a collection of his poems that show just why his works are held in such esteem. He also makes copious notes on many of them that allow us in to the mind and process of a very special talent.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCopyright Group
    Release dateNov 29, 2013
    ISBN9781783946969
    The Wind Among The Reeds & Other Poems: “Love comes in at the eye.”
    Author

    W B Yeats

    William Butler Yeats was born in 1865 in County Dublin. With his much-loved early poems such as 'The Stolen Child', and 'He Remembers Forgotten Beauty', he defined the Celtic Twilight mood of the late-Victorian period and led the Irish Literary Renaissance. Yet his style evolved constantly, and he is acknowledged as a major figure in literary modernism and twentieth-century European letters. T. S. Eliot described him as 'one of those few whose history is the history of their own time, who are part of the consciousness of an age which cannot be understood without them'. W. B. Yeats died in 1939.

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      Book preview

      The Wind Among The Reeds & Other Poems - W B Yeats

      The Wind Among the Reeds & Other Poems by W. B. Yeats

      William Butler Yeats (1865 – 1939) was born in Dublin, educated both there and in London.

      He is best described as Ireland’s national poet in addition to being one of the major twentieth-century literary figures of the English tongue. To many literary critics, Yeats represents the ‘Romantic poet of modernism’ – an extraordinary style that combines the outward emphasis on the expression of emotions and the extensive use of symbolism, imagery and allusions.

      Yeats also wrote extensively for prose and drama and established himself as the spokesman of the Irish cause.

      His fame was greatly boosted after he received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1923.

      Yeat’s life was marked by his many love stories, by his great interest in oriental mysticism and occultism as well as by political engagement; he served as an Irish senator for two terms.

      Today William Butler Yeats’s contribution to literary modernism and to Irish nationalism remains incontestable. 

      Here we publish a collection of his poems that show just why his works are held in such esteem.   He also makes copious notes on many of them that allow us in to the mind and process of a very special talent.

      Index Of Contents

      THE HOSTING OF THE SIDHE

      THE EVERLASTING VOICES

      THE MOODS

      AEDH TELLS OF THE ROSE IN HIS HEART

      THE HOST OF THE AIR

      BREASAL THE FISHERMAN

      A CRADLE SONG

      INTO THE TWILIGHT

      THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS

      THE SONG OF THE OLD MOTHER

      THE FIDDLER OF DOONEY

      THE HEART OF THE WOMAN

      AEDH LAMENTS THE LOSS OF LOVE

      MONGAN LAMENTS THE CHANGE THAT HAS COME   UPON HIM AND HIS BELOVED

      MICHAEL ROBARTES BIDS HIS BELOVED BE AT PEACE

      HANRAHAN REPROVES THE CURLEW

      MICHAEL ROBARTES REMEMBERS FORGOTTEN   BEAUTY

      A POET TO HIS BELOVED

      AEDH GIVES HIS BELOVED CERTAIN RHYMES

      TO MY HEART, BIDDING IT HAVE NO FEAR

      THE CAP AND BELLS

      THE VALLEY OF THE BLACK PIG

      MICHAEL ROBARTES ASKS FORGIVENESS BECAUSE   OF HIS MANY MOODS

      AEDH TELLS OF A VALLEY FULL OF LOVERS

      AEDH TELLS OF THE PERFECT BEAUTY

      AEDH HEARS THE CRY OF THE SEDGE

      AEDH THINKS OF THOSE WHO HAVE SPOKEN EVIL  OF HIS BELOVED

      THE BLESSED

      THE SECRET ROSE

      HANRAHAN LAMENTS BECAUSE OF HIS WANDERINGS

      THE TRAVAIL OF PASSION

      THE POET PLEADS WITH HIS FRIEND FOR OLD FRIENDS

      HANRAHAN SPEAKS TO THE LOVERS OF HIS SONGS IN COMING DAYS

      AEDH PLEADS WITH THE ELEMENTAL POWERS

      AEDH WISHES HIS BELOVED WERE DEAD

      AEDH WISHES FOR THE CLOTHS OF HEAVEN

      MONGAN THINKS OF HIS PAST GREATNESS

      NOTES

      THE HOSTING OF THE SIDHE

      The host is riding from Knocknarea

      And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare;

      Caolte tossing his burning hair

      And Niamh calling Away, come away:

      Empty your heart of its mortal dream.

      The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,

      Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,

      Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are a-gleam,

      Our arms are waving, our lips are apart;

      And if any gaze on our rushing band,

      We come between him and the deed of his hand,

      We come between him and the hope of his heart.

      The host is rushing 'twixt night and day,

      And where is there hope or deed as fair?

      Caolte tossing his burning hair,

      And Niamh calling Away, come away.

      THE EVERLASTING VOICES

      O sweet everlasting Voices be still;

      Go to the guards of the heavenly fold

      And bid them wander obeying your will

      Flame under flame, till Time be no more;

      Have you not heard that our hearts are old,

      That you call in birds, in wind on the hill,

      In shaken boughs, in tide on the shore?

      O sweet everlasting Voices be still.

      THE MOODS

      Time drops in decay,

      Like a candle burnt out,

      And the mountains and woods

      Have their day, have their day;

      What one in the rout

      Of the fire-born moods,

      Has fallen away?

      AEDH TELLS OF THE ROSE IN HIS HEART

      All things

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