Resultado da Busca
Há 5 dias · Hermits upon Mount Meru or Everest, Caverned in night under the drifted snow, Or where that snow and winter 's dreadful blast. Beat down upon their naked bodies, know. That day brings round the night, that before dawn. His glory and his monuments are gone. William Butler Yeats. Rate:
Há 2 dias · T S Eliot and W B Yeats have also portrayed youth and age excellently in their poems. This papers attempts to reinstate influence of Indian Philosophy on T S Eliot and W B Yeats especially when they depict youth and age in their poems.
Há 4 dias · I will arise and go now, for always night and day. I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey, I hear it in the deep heart’s core. A serene and evocative poem by W.B. Yeats capturing the desire for peace and simplicity. Download the full text in PDF format.
Há 4 dias · Through winter - time we call on spring, And through the spring on summer call, And when abounding hedges ring. Declare that winter's best of all; And after that there s nothing good. Because the spring-time has not come-. Nor know that what disturbs our blood. Is but its longing for the tomb. William Butler Yeats.
Há 4 dias · Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can, Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut. Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder’s gone. I must lie down where all the ladders start. In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart. A reflective poem by W.B. Yeats on the creative process and disillusionment. Download the full text in PDF format.
Há 4 dias · Rolling along in dreams from hill to hill. Cried all his story to the dewdrops glistening. The dewdrops, for the sound of their own dropping. And lo! my ancient burden may depart. Among her wildering whirls, forgetting him. A melancholic and lyrical poem by W.B. Yeats exploring themes of loss and nature. Download the full text in PDF format.
Há 4 dias · He Wishes His Beloved Were Dead Poem – by W.B. Yeats (Text-Version) Were you but lying cold and dead, And lights were paling out of the West, You would come hither, and bend your head, And I would lay my head on your breast; And you would murmur tender words, Forgiving me, because you were dead: Nor would you rise and hasten away, Though you ...
