I have drunk ale from the Country of the Young / And weep because I know all things now.
O heart the winds have shaken, the unappeasable host Is comelier than candles at Mother Mary's feet.
Many times man lives and dies between his two eternities: that of race and that of Soul... A brief parting from those dear is the worst man has to fear... Though grave diggers' toil is long... They but thrust their buried men back in the human mind again.
I have grown to believe that there is no dangerous idea, which does not become less dangerous when written out in sincere and careful English.
Accursed who brings to light of day the writings I have cast away.
It is most important that we should keep in this country a certain leisured class. I am of the opinion of the ancient Jewish book which says there is no wisdom without leisure.
Is it not certain that the Creator yawns in earthquake and thunder and other popular displays, but toils in rounding the delicate spiral of a shell? -Yeats, The Trembling of the Veil
Out of Ireland have we come, great hatred, little room, maimed us at the start. I carry from my mother's womb a fanatic heart.
Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.
Be secret and exult, Because of all things known That is most difficult.
The friends that have it I do wrong Whenever I remake a song, Should know what issue is at stake: It is myself that I remake.
Being young you have not known The fool's triumph, nor yet Love lost as soon as won, Nor the best labourer dead And all the sheaves to bind.
A line will take us hours maybe; Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been naught.
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.
A tree there is that from its topmost bough Is half all glittering flame and half all green Abounding foliage moistened with the dew; And half is half and yet is all the scene; And half and half consume what they renew.
When I clamber to the heights of sleep, Or when I grow excited with wine, suddenly I meet your face.
I have nothing more to give you than my heart. Spanish saying Hearts are not to be had as a gift hearts are to be earned.
If soul my look and body touch, Which is the more blest?
What can be shown? What true love be? All could be known or shown If Time were but gone.
I long for truth, and yet I cannot stay from that My better self disowns, For a man's attention Brings such satisfaction To the craving in my bones.
Great Powers of falling wave and wind and windy fire, With your harmonious choir Encircle her I love and sing her into peace, That my old care may cease.
No man has ever lived that had enough of children's gratitude or woman's love.
All hatred driven hence, The soul recovers radical innocence And learns at last that it is self-delighting, Self-appeasing, self-affrighting, And that its own sweet will is Heaven's will
I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember
All think what other people think; All know the man their neighbor knows. Lord, what would they say Did their Catullus walk that way?
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