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We poets would die of loneliness but for women, and we choose our men friends that we may have somebody to talk about women with.
The Letters of W. B. Yeats Letter to Olivia Shakespeare, 1936
Stand still, true poet that you are!
I know you; let me try and draw you.
Some night you'll fail us: when afar
You rise, remember one man saw you,
Knew you, and named a star!
I know you; let me try and draw you.
Some night you'll fail us: when afar
You rise, remember one man saw you,
Knew you, and named a star!
Popularity
Not in the clamor of the crowded street,
Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,
But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.
Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,
But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.
The Poets
For now the poet cannot die,
Nor leave his music as of old,
But round him ere he scarce be cold
Begins the scandal and the cry.
Nor leave his music as of old,
But round him ere he scarce be cold
Begins the scandal and the cry.
After reading a Life and Letters
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On Friendship: "A crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love."
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