Poems from collections not on this list:
The Wanderings of Oisin and Other Poems (1889)
The Countess Kathleen and Various Legends and Lyrics or The Rose (1893)
The Wind Among the Reeds (1899)
Responsibilities (1914)
Michael Robartes and the Dancer (1921)
The Tower (1928)
The Winding Stair and Other Poems (1933)
Word for Music, Perhaps And Other Poems (1933)
A Full Moon in March (1935)
New Poems (1938)
Last Poems (1939)
A
editA speckled cat and a tame hare
Ah, that Time could touch a form
All things can tempt me from this craft of verse
All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old
Although I can see him still
Although I'd lie lapped up in linen
Although you hide in the ebb and flow
An old man cocked his ear upon a bridge
B
editC
editD
editF
editG
editH
editI
editI am worn out with dreams
I cried when the moon was murmuring to the birds
I had this thought awhile ago
I hardly hear the curlew cry
I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods
I have no happiness in dreaming of Brycelinde
I heard the old, old men say
I know that I shall meet my fate
I think it better that in times like these
I thought of your beauty and this arrow
I thought no more was needed
I swayed upon the gaudy stern
I went out to the hazel wood
I whispered, "I am too young,"
I would be ignorant as the dawn
If any man drew near
I'll say and maybe dream I have drawn content
K
editM
editN
editO
editO heart, be at peace, because
O sweet everlasting Voices be still
On the grey rock of Cashel the mind's eye
On the grey sand beside the shallow stream
Once, when midnight smote the air
One had a lovely face
One that is ever kind said yesterday
Others because you did not keep
Out yonder, where the race course is
Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn
P
editS
editSang Solomon to Sheba
She is foremost of those that I would hear praised
She lived in storm and strife
She might, so noble from head
Sickness brought me this
Some may have blamed you that you took away
Stand up and lift your hand and bless
Suddenly I saw the cold and rook delighting Heaven
Swear by what the sages spoke
Swift has sailed into his rest
T
editThat cry's from the first cuckoo of the year
The cat went here and there
The Danann children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold
The fascination of what's difficult
The host is riding from Knocknarea
The old brown thorn trees break in two high over Cummen Strand
The trees are in their autumn beauty
There is a queen in China, or maybe it's in Spain
There is grey in your hair
There's many a strong farmer
These are the clouds about the fallen sun
This great purple butterfly
This night has been so strange that it seemed
Though leaves are many, the root is one
Though logic-choppers rule the town
Time drops in decay
W
editWe sat together at one summer's end
'What have I earned for all that work,' I said
What need you, being come to sense
When have I last looked on
When I play on my fiddle in Dooney
Where, where but here have Pride and Truth
Why should I blame her that she filled my days
Wine comes in at the mouth
With the old kindness, the old distinguished grace
Would I could cast a sail on the water
"Would it were anything but merely voice!"