Famous Poets collection of free poems and free poetry
Home| What's New| Search Poetry| About US| E-Mail Poem a day| Privacy Policy|
Category
  Children Poems
  Englands Poets
  Fathers/ Fathers day Poems
  Friendship Poems
  General Poems
  Graduation Poems
  Humerous/ Funny Poems
  In Memoriam
  Love Poems
  Mothers/ Mothers day Poems
  Mystical/ Mythology
  Nature Poems
  Poems of Hope
  Remembrance Poems
  Scottish
  Sonnets
  Spiritual/ Religious Poems
  Spring Poems
  Summer Poems
  Thought provoking/ sad Poems
  War Poems
  Wedding Poetry
  Winter Poems
  Top Viewed Poetry
  Top rated Poetry
  All Poets
  All Poems
  Poet of the Day
  Poem of the Day
  Links
  Site Map


 
Total Views:  476  
        Rating:  0  
This Poetry has been rated 0 times  
 
Rate This Poem:      
  
Poem Title:  September 1913

Poem Category:  General Poems

Poet:  William Butler Yeats

Poet Biography: 
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) was a poet whose influences include The Occult, symbolism and Irish political independance



Poem: 
What need you, being come to sense,
but fumble in a greasy till
and add the halfpence to the pence
and prayer to shivering prayer, until
you have dried the marrow from the bone?
For men were born to pray and save:
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
it's with O'Leary in the grave.

Yet they were of a different kind,
the names that stilled your childish play,
they have gone about the world like wind,
but little time had they to pray
for whom the hangman's rope was spun,
and what, God help us, could they save?
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
it's with O'Leary in the grave.

Was it for this the wild geese spread
the grey wing upon every tide;
For this that all that blood was shed,
for this Edward Fitzgerald died,
and Robert Emmet and Wolfe tone,
all that delirium of the brave?
romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
It's with O'Leary in the grave.

Yet could we turn the years again,
and call those exiles as they were
in all their loneliness and pain,
you'd cry, 'some woman's yellow hair
has maddened every mother's son':
they weighed so lightly what they gave.
But let them be, they're dead and gone,
they're with O'Leary in the grave.


Designed & Developed By Elitesofttech

Love Poems and Love Poetry | Funny Poems and Funny Poetry | Mothers Day Poems and Mothers Day Poetry | Fathers Day Poems and Fathers Day Poetry | Free Poems and Free Poetry | Famous Poems and Famous Poetry | Childrens/Teen Poems and Childrens/Teen Poetry | Wedding Poems and Wedding Poetry | War Poems and War Poetry | Sad Poems and Sad Poetry | Friendship Poems and Friendship Poetry | Graduation Poems and Graduation Poetry