By William Butler Yeats I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;Nine bean-rows …
Ireland
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A Prayer For My Daughter
By William Butler Yeats Once more the storm is howling, and half hidUnder this cradle-hood and coverlidMy child sleeps on. There is no obstacleBut Gregory’s …
In Memory Of W.B. Yeats
By Wystan Hugh Auden I He disappeared in the dead of winter:The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,And snow disfigured the public statues;The mercury …