Poem – A Dream Of Death –  William Butler Yeats

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 of two bits of wood, 

And planted cypress round; 

And left her to the indifferent stars above 

Until I carved these words: 

i{She was more beautiful than thy first love,} 

i{But now lies under boards.}

Poem – A Bronze Head – William Butler Yeats

HERE at right of the entrance this bronze head, 

Human, superhuman, a bird’s round eye, 

Everything else withered and mummy-dead. 

What great tomb-haunter sweeps the distant sky 

(Something may linger there though all else die;) 

And finds there nothing to make its tetror less 

i{Hysterica passio} of its own emptiness? 
No dark tomb-haunter once; her form all full 

As though with magnanimity of light, 

Yet a most gentle woman; who can tell 

Which of her forms has shown her substance right? 

Or maybe substance can be composite, 

profound McTaggart thought so, and in a breath 

A mouthful held the extreme of life and death. 
But even at the starting-post, all sleek and new, 

I saw the wildness in her and I thought 

A vision of terror that it must live through 

Had shattered her soul. Propinquity had brought 

Imagiation to that pitch where it casts out 

All that is not itself: I had grown wild 

And wandered murmuring everywhere, ‘My child, my 

child! ‘ 
Or else I thought her supernatural; 

As though a sterner eye looked through her eye 

On this foul world in its decline and fall; 

On gangling stocks grown great, great stocks run dry, 

Ancestral pearls all pitched into a sty, 

Heroic reverie mocked by clown and knave, 

And wondered what was left for massacre to save.

Poem – When You Wake Tomorrow

I will give you a poem when you wake tomorrow. 

It will be a peaceful poem. 

It won’t make you sad. 

It won’t make you miserable. 

It will simply be a poem to give you 

When you wake tomorrow. 
It was not written by myself alone. 

I cannot lay claim to it. 

I found it in your body. 

In your smile I found it. 

Will you recognise it? 
You will find it under your pillow. 

When you open the cupboard it will be there. 

You will blink in astonishment, 

Shout out, ‘How it trembles! 

Its nakedness is startling! How fresh it tastes!’ 
We will have it for breakfast; 

On a table lit by loving, 

At a place reserved for wonder. 

We will give the world a kissing open 

When we wake tomorrow. 
We will offer it to the sad landlord out on the balcony. 

To the dreamers at the window. 

To the hand waving for no particular reason 

We will offer it. 

An amazing and most remarkable thing, 

We will offer it to the whole human race 

Which walks in us 

When we wake tomorrow.

Poem – Simple Lyric

When I think of her sparkling face 

And of her body that rocked this way and that, 

When I think of her laughter, 

Her jubilance that filled me, 

It’s a wonder I’m not gone mad. 
She is away and I cannot do what I want. 

Other faces pale when I get close. 

She is away and I cannot breathe her in. 
The space her leaving has created 

I have attempted to fill 

With bodies that numbed upon touching, 

Among them I expected her opposite, 

And found only forgeries. 
Her wholeness I know to be a fiction of my making, 

Still I cannot dismiss the longing for her; 

It is a craving for sensation new flesh 

Cannot wholly calm or cancel, 

It is perhaps for more than her. 
At night above the parks the stars are swarming. 

The streets are thick with nostalgia; 

I move through senseless routine and insensitive chatter 

As if her going did not matter. 

She is away and I cannot breathe her in. 

I am ill simply through wanting her.

Poem – First Love

Falling in love was like falling down the stairs Each stair had her name on it 

And he went bouncing down each one like a tongue-tied 

lunatic 

One day of loving her was an ordinary year 

He transformed her into what he wanted 

And the scent from her 

Was the best scent in the world 

Fifteen he was fifteen 

Each night he dreamed of her 

Each day he telephoned her 

Each day was unfamiliar 

Scary even 

And the fear of her going weighed on him like a stone 

And when he could not see her for two nights running 

It seemed a century had passed 

And meeting her and staring at her face 

He knew he would feel as he did forever 

Hopelessly in love 

Sick with it 

And not even knowing her second name yet 

It was the first time 

The best time 

A time that would last forever 

Because it was new 

Because he was ignorant it could ever end 

It was endless