Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    The Wind Among the Reeds
    The Wind Among the Reeds
    The Wind Among the Reeds
    Ebook75 pages52 minutes

    The Wind Among the Reeds

    By W B Yeats

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    W.B. Yeats was an Irish poet who was one of the biggest contributors to the Irish Literary Revival of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  In 1923, Yeats became the first Irishman to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature.  This edition of The Wind Among the Reeds includes a table of contents.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCharles River Editors
    Release dateMar 22, 2018
    ISBN9781518341434
    The Wind Among the Reeds
    Author

    W B Yeats

    William Butler Yeats was born in 1865 in County Dublin. With his much-loved early poems such as 'The Stolen Child', and 'He Remembers Forgotten Beauty', he defined the Celtic Twilight mood of the late-Victorian period and led the Irish Literary Renaissance. Yet his style evolved constantly, and he is acknowledged as a major figure in literary modernism and twentieth-century European letters. T. S. Eliot described him as 'one of those few whose history is the history of their own time, who are part of the consciousness of an age which cannot be understood without them'. W. B. Yeats died in 1939.

    Read more from W B Yeats

    Related to The Wind Among the Reeds

    Related ebooks

    Poetry For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      The Epic Of Gilgamesh

      Jan 1, 2020

      My friends, who can reach heaven? The monster bellows like a river swollen with flood.Many are consumed in his fiery breath. My friends, who can reach heaven? Let us ask the mountain for a sign.Let us cut the spirits from the cedars. My friends, who

      3 min read

    • Article

      The Island (catullus 64)

      Mar 1, 2022

      Back then the evergreens tumbled downriverfrom the glaze-white runoff to the boot-stirred puddlesof amber young men who fulfilled our destiny,who clambered into ships, on horses, and in wagonspainting the newfound landscapes ours.Our calling was nobl

      9 min read

    • Article

      Poetry of Place

      May 30, 2023

      Poetry of Place
      9 min read

    • Article

      Until The Sea Closed Over Us And The Light Was Gone

      Jul 1, 2020

      —Dante, Canto XXVI But if the truth is dreamed of toward the morning—El Paso Although it was really last summer’s song,all this summer Despacito played on as slower then I turned myself to gazeupon Juarez. The summer everything hurts my eyes, a dozen

      6 min read

    • Article

      Paul,

      Jul 1, 2020

      Houston, April 2019 The coarse and leafy stalks, like memory,Began to soften in my hands. The kaleMassaged with olive oil and salt. Silently, You sat on the couch as if in grisaille,Scrolling through the twitter of the state.A fragile, bluesy cover s

      14 min read

    • Article

      Your Poetry

      Jun 24, 2022

      Email your poems to: (editorial@choicemag.co.uk) or post to Your Poetry, Choice, 4 Milnyard Square, Orton Southgate, Peterborough PE2 6GX I remember the tree from my youth,the way its leaves hissed in stormsweeping tears in driving rainand casting a

      2 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems by Joseph Brodsky

      May 12, 2020

      Two Poems by Joseph Brodsky
      7 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Jul 1, 2023

      Alláde donde yo soy es el único lugardonde unopuede agarrarse de la noche—como de una baranda— para no caeren la oscuridad. There,where I come from, is the only place I knowwhere you cangrab the nightlike a railing to keep from fallingthrough the dar

      1 min read

    • Article

      Diaspora Sonnets

      Sep 1, 2022

      The old men drink their spritzers and gossipunder awnings. Red hued and blustery, like two roosters on the side of a road.Skyward they crane their necks and laugh, sometimes they wonder about kings and future kingsand how the muscles peer from their

      2 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      May 1, 2019

      “My arm is so brown and so beautiful,” is a thought I haveas I’m about to turn off the lamp and go to sleep.I look at it a moment in the soft glow, and see it, briefly,as though it belonged to someone else. A reddishkind of brown, like a toasted almo

      7 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems by Forough Farrokhzad

      Jun 9, 2020

      O my seventh year, the year I turned sevenO wondrous moment of departureAfter you everything that happened happened in a mass of craziness andinsanity After you the window that had been such a vivid and bright connectionbetween the bird and usbetween

      3 min read

    • Article

      Tessa Castro

      Oct 20, 2021

      IN COMPETITION No 272, you were invited to write a poem called The Umbrella. The subject brought out such weird imaginings in many competitors that ordinary death seemed mundane. Katie Mallett warned against ‘Hemlocks, brollies to close down / All hu

      2 min read

    • Article

      from BLACK PASTORAL

      Nov 1, 2023

      somewheres, some lifetimes ago I have run so far, so long.There is nowhere I haven’t beenBut here, in this field, a bodyLength from the ragged brinkThat gives way to forest.I collapsed here, the thin, hard slipOf me whittled at both ends.I want badly

      4 min read

    • Article

      Spell

      Apr 25, 2018

      Spell
      4 min read

    • Article

      Must-Read Poetry: April 2018

      Apr 3, 2018

      Here are seven notable books of poetry publishing in April. Eye Level by Jenny Xie An excellent debut. Xie is particularly gifted with precise description; I want to linger on these poems. “Phnom Penh Diptych: Wet Season” is masterful and patient, ex

      6 min read

    • Article

      Must-Read Poetry: June 2018

      Jun 5, 2018

      Here are six notable books of poetry publishing in June. American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin by Terrance Hayes “I wanted to have my form and explode it too,” said Wanda Coleman of sonnets. Hayes names her with gratitude in this book. Ath

      5 min read

    • Article

      Your Poetry

      Oct 29, 2021

      I have been to the heights far away,I have danced and sang till night is day,I have been to see a newborn childI have been to see my old friend – she died,I have been wild and sometimes bad,I have been happy and many times sad,I have been in the thro

      2 min read

    • Article

      Must-Read Poetry: November 2020

      Nov 5, 2020

      Stop obsessively refreshing the New York Times's elections page, and check out these new books of poetry by Alice Quinn, Margaret Atwood, Yi Lei, Karina Borowicz, Valzhyna Mort, and Paul Celan. The post Must-Read Poetry: November 2020 appeared first

      6 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      May 1, 2022

      —after Gerrit van Honthorst’s “Samson and Delilah,” c. 1621 They’ve made a monster of me, marring my namefor eternity. I’m not Delilah,but Laila. I loved him. Each night, in bed, after our bodies became one body, he would succumb to sleep, resting hi

      3 min read

    • Article

      Something About John Coltrane

      Sep 1, 2021

      Something about a tree in shallow sleepListening for what it wants to remember: The note of a seed, its neck sliding throughDirt and its confusion—nothing cleansed Of struggle. The weight lost after death,A confrontation of death. John Coltrane Even

      5 min read

    • Article

      The Call Of The Wild

      Nov 30, 2020

      The Call Of The Wild
      2 min read

    • Article

      Stop Hating on Adjectives!

      Jun 12, 2019

      A common admonition in creative writing pedagogy is, “Cut as many adjectives as possible.” I propose that this rule springs from mere prejudice. The post Stop Hating on Adjectives! appeared first on The Millions.

      7 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for The Wind Among the Reeds

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      The Wind Among the Reeds - W B Yeats

      ..................

      THE HOSTING OF THE SIDHE

      ..................

      The host is riding from Knocknarea

      And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare;

      Caolte tossing his burning hair

      And Niamh calling Away, come away:

      Empty your heart of its mortal dream.

      The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,

      Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,

      Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are a-gleam,

      Our arms are waving, our lips are apart;

      And if any gaze on our rushing band,

      We come between him and the deed of his hand,

      We come between him and the hope of his heart.

      The host is rushing ‘twixt night and day,

      And where is there hope or deed as fair?

      Caolte tossing his burning hair,

      And Niamh calling Away, come away.

      ––––––––––––––––––––––––––—

      THE EVERLASTING VOICES

      ..................

      O sweet everlasting Voices be still;

      Go to the guards of the heavenly fold

      And bid them wander obeying your will

      Flame under flame, till Time be no more;

      Have you not heard that our hearts are old,

      That you call in birds, in wind on the hill,

      In shaken boughs, in tide on the shore?

      O sweet everlasting Voices be still.

      ________________________________________

      THE MOODS

      ..................

      Time drops in decay,

      Like a candle burnt out,

      And the mountains and woods

      Have their day, have their day;

      What one in the rout

      Of the fire-born moods,

      Has fallen away?

      ________________________________________

      AEDH TELLS OF THE ROSE IN HIS HEART

      ..................

      All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old,

      The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart,

      The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould,

      Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.

      The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told;

      I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart,

      With the earth and the sky and the water, remade, like a casket of gold

      For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.

      ––––––––––––––––––––––––––—

      THE HOST OF THE AIR

      ..................

      O’Driscoll drove with a song,

      The wild duck and the drake,

      From the tall and the tufted reeds

      Of the drear Hart Lake.

      And he saw how the reeds grew dark

      At the coming of night tide,

      And dreamed of the long dim hair

      Of Bridget his bride.

      He heard while he sang and dreamed

      A piper piping away,

      And never was piping so sad,

      And never was piping so gay.

      And he saw young men and young girls

      Who danced on a level place

      And Bridget his bride among them,

      With a sad and a gay face.

      The dancers crowded about him,

      And many a sweet thing said,

      And a young man brought him red wine

      And a young girl white bread.

      But Bridget drew him by the sleeve,

      Away from the merry bands,

      To old men playing at cards

      With a twinkling of ancient hands.

      The bread and the wine had a doom,

      For these were the host of the air;

      He sat and played in a dream

      Of her long dim hair.

      He played with the merry old men

      And thought not of evil chance,

      Until one bore Bridget his bride

      Away from the merry dance.

      He bore her away in his arms,

      The handsomest young man there,

      And his neck and his breast and his arms

      Were drowned in her long dim hair.

      O’Driscoll scattered the cards

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1