Tag Archives: W.B. Yeats

Happy (Belated) Birthday, William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats was born yesterday, in 1865. Yeats is a great poet and all that, but I grew up pretty much “over” him because he was kind of omnipresent in our household. We were made to memorize his epitaph … Continue reading

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Yeats On a Mural

I love every single word of this post, and I’ve read it, oh, five times, just because it pleases me.

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Today in history: January 26, 1907

Until I get my words back for real, blogging will continue to be photo-oriented, a Facebook version of my blog. I cannot write right now. I am not myself. But today is an important anniversary and one that has family-connections … Continue reading

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Books I bought online in a fugue state on December 29

They are all arriving now, and it feels, already, like visitations from a ghost of the long-distant past. — The letters of Maud Gonne and WB Yeats — Maud Gonne’s autobiography — Shane Leslie’s memoirs — Conor Cruise O’Brien’s memoirs … Continue reading

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Cast a cold eye

… On life, on death Horseman pass by — WB Yeats’s epitaph When we were small children, our dad made us memorize the epitaph in order to get part of our allowance (which was all of 75 cents). So all … Continue reading

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Maud Gonne: “The Pilgrim Soul”

Maud Gonne, Irish revolutionary, feminist, radical, and lifelong poetic muse of William Butler Yeats, was born yesterday in 1865. She married John MacBride (after a couple of notorious affairs and illegitimate children). John MacBride was an Irish nationalist who participated … Continue reading

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“It is to be a bond of the spirit only.”

Fantastic article about the new Yeats exhibit going on at the National Library in Dublin – which will (pretty please) eventually come to the States, if a library/museum steps up to the plate to host it. (That’s one of the … Continue reading

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Happy Birthday, William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats was born today, in 1865. Yeats is a great poet and all that, but I grew up pretty much “over” him because he was kind of omnipresent in our household. We were made to memorize his epitaph … Continue reading

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Today in History: January 28, 1939

William Butler Yeats died. And, of course, Yeats makes me think of my father. My first published piece in The Sewanee Review was about the Yeats-dad continuum. From memory now! And when I hear this poem, in my head – … Continue reading

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National Poetry Month: William Butler Yeats

I wrote about my affection for this poem here – it was just a part of my childhood because of that Clancy Brothers album … I didn’t even know it was Yeats at the time! Of course his later poems … Continue reading

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