The People by William Butler Yeats - famous poem by William Butler Yeats

birthday poems poetry

A   B   C   D   E   F   G   H   I   J   K   L   M   N   O   P   Q   R   S   T   U   V   W   X   Y   Z  

love poems

friendship poems
funny poems
inspirational poems
birthday poems
wedding poems
child poems
mother poems
sister poems
  sad poems
  funeral poems
 anniversary poems
 family poems
daughter poems
death poems
baby poems
broken heart poems
graduation poems
retirement poems
haiku poems
short poems
sweet poems
teen poems
thank you poems
sympathy poems
life poems
Christian poems
nature poems
black poems
romantic poems

This is the place to search for a free famous poem. The best resource for quotes and famous poetry.

 

The People by William Butler Yeats

'What have I earned for all that work,' I said,
'For all that I have done at my own charge?
The daily spite of this unmannerly town,
Where who has served the most is most defaned,
The reputation of his lifetime lost
Between the night and morning. I might have lived,
And you know well how great the longing has been,
Where every day my footfall Should have lit
In the green shadow of Ferrara wall;
Or climbed among the images of the past --
The unperturbed and courtly images --
Evening and morning, the steep street of Urbino
To where the Duchess and her people talked
The stately midnight through until they stood
In their great window looking at the dawn;
I might have had no friend that could not mix
Courtesy and passion into one like those
That saw the wicks grow yellow in the dawn;
I might have used the one substantial right
My trade allows: chosen my company,
And chosen what scenery had pleased me best.
Thereon my phoenix answered in reproof,
'The drunkards, pilferers of public funds,
All the dishonest crowd I had driven away,
When my luck changed and they dared meet my face,
Crawled from obscurity, and set upon me
Those I had served and some that I had fed;
Yet never have I, now nor any time,
Complained of the people.'

All I could reply
Was: 'You, that have not lived in thought but deed,
Can have the purity of a natural force,
But I, whose virtues are the definitions
Of the analytic mind, can neither close
The eye of the mind nor keep my tongue from speech.'
And yet, because my heart leaped at her words,
I was abashed, and now they come to mind
After nine years, I sink my head abashed.


About the author:
William Butler Yeats





Home -Link to this page



Free Poetry Contest
Poetry.com will award over 1,200 awards and prizes totaling over $100,000 to amateur poets in the coming months. All contestants are eligible for both of our contests. Join Now!

 

Copy and paste this into the code of your webpage:

Various information on famous poems, poets biographies and other info.

poem contest - poem of the day - terms and conditions - tell a friend - our goals - contact us - bookmark this site - links - poetry contest
This page is best viewed in 1024X768 resolution
Copyright © 2005-2007 LoveThePoem.com - famous poems