William Butler Yeats Quotes

Do not let him touch you! It is not true That drunken men cannot beget, And if he touch he must beget And you must bear his murderer. Deaf ! Both deaf !

Propinquity had brought Imagination to that pitch where it casts out All that is not itself. I had grown wild And wandered murmuring everywhere, ‘My child, my child.’

No marble, no conventional phrase, On limestone quarried near the spot By his command these words are cut: Cast a cold eye On life, on death. Horseman, pass by!

Under bare Ben Bulben’s head In Drumcliffe churchyard Yeats is laid, An ancestor was rector there Long years ago; a church stands near, By the road an ancient Cross.