 Section one of The Wind Among the Reeds. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Hosting of the Shee by William Butler Yates. Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. The Host is riding from Noctnare and over the grave of Clouffe N'Bear, Coyote tossing his burning hair and Neve calling, Away, come away! Empty your heart of its mortal dream. The wind's 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 a pot. 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 twix tonight and a day, and where is their hope or deed as fair? Quieter tossing his burning hair and Neve calling, Away, come away! End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Everlasting Voices by William Butler Yates. Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Oh, sweet Everlasting Voices. Be still. Go to the guards of the heavenly fold and bid them wander, Obey in 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? Oh, sweet Everlasting Voices. Be still. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Moods by William Butler Yates. Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Time drops in decay, like a candle burnt out, And the mountains and woods have their day, have their day. What one in the route of the fire-born moods has fallen away? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Lover Tells of the Rose in His Heart by William Butler Yates. Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. 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 plowmen, splashing the wintry mould. A wronging your image that blossoms. A rose in the depths 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 depths of my heart. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Host of the Air by William Butler Yates. Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. O'Driscoll drove with a song, The Wild Duck and the Drake. From the tall and the tufted reeds of the drear heart 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. A driscoll scattered the cards and out of his dream awoke. Old men and young men and young girls were gone like a drifting smoke. But he heard high up in the air a piper piping away and never was piping so sad and never was piping so gay. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Fisherman by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Although you hide in the airbent flow of the pale tide when the moon has set the people of coming days will know about the casting out of my net and how you have leaped times out of mind over the little silver cords and think that you were hard and unkind and blame you with many bitter words. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A cradle song by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. The Danaian children laugh in cradles wrought of gold and clap their hands together and half close their eyes for they will ride the north when the jeery go flies with heavy whitening wings and a heart-fallen cold. I kiss my wailing child and press it to my breast and hear the narrow graves calling my child and me. Desolate winds that cry over the wandering sea. Desolate winds that hover in the flaming west. Desolate winds that beat the doors of heaven and beat the doors of hell and blow their many a whimpering ghost. Oh, heart, the winds have shaken. The unappeasable host is cumbly-earthing candles at Mother Mary's feet. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Into the Twilight by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Outworn heart in a time outworn. Come clear of the nets of wrong and right. Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight. Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn. Your mother-era is always young, due-ever shining and twilight-grey. Though hopeful from you and love decay, burning in fires of a slanderous tongue. Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill, for there the mystical brotherhood of sun and moon and hollow and wood and river and stream work out their will, and God stands winding his lonely horn, and time and the world are ever in flight, and love is less kind than the grey twilight, and hope is less dear than the dew of the morn. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Song of Wandering Angus by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. I went out to the hazel wood because a fire was in my head, and cut and peeled a hazel wand, and hooked a berry to a thread. And when white moths were on the wing and moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream, and caught a little silver trout. When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire aflame, but something rustled on the floor and someone called me by my name. It had become a glimmering girl with apple blossom in her hair, who called me by my name and ran and faded through the brightening air. Though I am old with wandering through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone and kiss her lips and take her hands, and walk among long-dappled grass, and pluck till time and times are done. The silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Song of the Old Mother by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. I rise in the dawn and I kneel and blow till the seed of the fire flicker and glow, and then I must scrub and bake and sweep till stars are beginning to blink and peep, and the young lie long and dream in their bed of the matching of ribbons for bosom and head, and their day goes over in idleness, and they sigh if the wind but lift a tress, while I must work because I am old, and the seed of the fire gets feeble and cold. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Heart of the Woman by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Oh, what to me the little room that was brimmed up with prayer and rest? He bade me out into the gloom, and my breast lies upon his breast. Oh, what to me my mother's care, the house where I was safe and warm? The shadowy blossom of my hair will hide us from the bitter storm. Oh, hiding hair and dewy eyes, I am no more with life and death. My heart upon his warm heart lies. My breath is mixed into his breath. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Lover Mourns for the Loss of Love by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Pale brows, still hands and dim hair. I had a beautiful friend, and dreamed that the old despair would end in love in the end. She looked in my heart one day, and saw your image was there. She has gone weeping away. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. He mourns for the change that has come upon him and his beloved, and longs for the end of the world by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Do you not hear me calling white deer with no horns? I have been changed to a hound with one red ear. I have been in the path of stones and the wood of thorns for somebody hid hatred and hope and desire and fear under my feet that they follow you night and day. A man with a hazel wand came without a sound. He changed me suddenly. I was looking another way, and now my calling is but the calling of a hound, and time and birth and change are hurrying by. I would that the bore without bristles had come from the west and had rooted the sun and moon and stars out of the sky and lay in the darkness grunting and turning to his rest. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. He bids his beloved be at peace by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. I hear the shadowy horses, their long mains are shake, their hoofs heavy with tumult, their eyes glimmering white. The north unfolds above them, clinging, creeping night. The east her hidden joy before the morning break. The west weeps in pale dew and sighs, passing away. The south is pouring down roses of crimson fire. Oh vanity of sleep, hope, dream, endless desire. The horses of disaster plunge in the heavy clay, beloved. Let your eyes half close and your heart beat over my heart and your hair fall over my breast. Drowning loves lonely hour in deep twilight of rest and hiding their tossing mains and their tumultuous feet. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. He reproves the curlew by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Oh curlew, cry no more in the air or only to the waters in the west because your crying brings to my mind passion dimmed eyes and long heavy hair that was shaken out over my breast. There is enough evil in the crying of wind. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. He remembers Forgotten Beauty by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. When my arms wrap you round I press my heart upon the loveliness that has long faded from the world. The dueled crowns that kings have hurled in shadowy pools when armies fled. The love tales wrought with silk and thread by dreaming ladies upon cloth that has made fat the murderous moth. The roses that of old time were woven by ladies in their hair. The due cold lilies ladies bore through many a sacred corridor were such grey clouds of incense rose that only the gods eyes did not close. For that pale breast and lingering hand come from a more dream heavy land a more dream heavy hour than this. And when you sigh from kiss to kiss I hear white beauty sighing too for hours when all must fade like dew. All but the flames and deep on deep throne over throne where in half sleep their swords upon their iron knees brood her high lonely mysteries. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. A poet to his beloved by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. I bring you with reverent hands the books of my numberless dreams. White woman that passion has worn as the tide wears the dove grey sands and with heart more old than the horn that is brimmed from the pale fire of time white woman with numberless dreams I bring you my passionate rhyme. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. He gives his beloved certain rhymes by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Fasten your hair with a golden pin and bind up every wandering dress. I bade my heart build these poor rhymes it worked at them day out day in building a sorrowful loveliness out of the battles of old times you need but lift a pearl pale hand and bind up your long hair and sigh and all men's hearts must burn and beat and candle like foam on the dim sand and stars climbing the dew dropping sky live but to light your passing feet. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. To my heart bidding it have no fear by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. Be you still, be you still trembling heart remember the wisdom out of the old days him who trembles before the flame and the flood and the winds that blow through the starry ways let the starry winds and the flame and the flood cover over and hide for he has no part with the proud, majestical multitude. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Cap and Bells by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. The jester walked in the garden the garden had fallen still he bade his soul rise upward and stand on her window sill it rose in a straight blue garment when owls began to call it had grown wise-tongued by thinking of a quiet and light footfall but the young queen would not listen she rose in her pale nightgown she drew in the heavy casement and pushed the latches down he bade his heart go to her when the owls called out no more in a red and quivering garment it sang to her through the door it had grown sweet-tongued by dreaming of a flutter of flower-like hair but she took up her fan from the table and waved it off on the air I have Cap and Bells he pondered I will send them to her and die and when the morning whitened he left them where she went by she laid them upon her bosom under a cloud of her hair and her red lips sang them a love song till stars grew out of the air she opened her door and her window and the heart and the soul came through to her right hand came the red one to her left hand came the blue they set up a noise-like crickets a chattering wise and sweet and her hair was a folded flower and the quiet of love in her feet end of poem this recording is in the public domain The Valley of the Black Pig by William Butler Yates Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist The dews drop slowly and dreams gather Unknown spears suddenly hurtle before my dream awakens and then the clash of fallen horsemen and the cries of unknown perishing armies beat about my ears We who still labour by the crumb-leck on the shore the grey cairn on the hill day sinks drowned in dew Being weary of the world's empires bow down to you master of the still stars and of the flaming door End of poem this recording is in the public domain The lover asks forgiveness because of his many moods by William Butler Yates Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist This importunate heart trouble your peace with words lighter than air or hopes that in mere hoping flicker and cease crumple the rose in your hair and cover your lips with odorous twilight and say Oh, hearts of wind-blown flame Oh, winds elder than changing of night and day that murmuring and longing came from marble cities loud with tabers of old in dove-grey fairy lands from battle banners fold upon purple fold Queens wrought with glimmering hands that saw young Neve hover with love-lawn face above the wandering tide and lingered in the hidden desolate place where the last phoenix died and wrapped the flames above his holy head and still murmur and long Oh, piteous hearts changing till change be dead in a tumultuous song and cover the pale blossoms of your breast with your dim heavy hair and trouble with a sigh for all things longing for rest and odorous twilight there End of poem, this recording is in the public domain He tells of a valley full of lovers by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist I dreamed that I stood in a valley and amid sighs for happy lovers passed two by two where I stood and I dreamed my last love came stelfly out of the wood with her cloud-pale eyelids falling on dream-dimmed eyes I cried in my dream Oh, women bid the young men lay their heads on your knees and drown their eyes with your hair or remembering hers they will find no other face fair for all the valleys of the world have been withered away End of poem, this recording is in the public domain He tells of the perfect beauty by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist Oh, cloud-pale eyelids dream-dimmed eyes the poets laboring all their days to build a perfect beauty in rhyme are overthrown by a woman's gaze and by the unlaboring brood of the skies and therefore my heart will bow when dew is dropping sleep until God burn time before the unlaboring stars and you End of poem, this recording is in the public domain He hears the cry of the sedge by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist I wander by the edge of this desolate lake where wind cries in the sedge until the axle-break that keeps the stars in there round and hands hurl in the deep of the banners of eastern west and the girdle of light is unbound your breast will not lie by the breast of your beloved in sleep End of poem, this recording is in the public domain He thinks of those who have spoken evil of his beloved by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist off-close your eyelids loosen your hair and dream about the great and their pride They have spoken against you everywhere but weigh this song with the great and their pride I made it out of a mouthful of air Their children's children shall say they have lied End of poem, this recording is in the public domain The Blessed by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist Cool called out bending his head till die he came and stood with a blink in his eyes at the cave mouth between the wind and the wood and Cool said, bending his knees I have come by the windy way to gather the wharf of your blessedness and learn to pray when you pray I can bring you salmon out of the streams and heron out of the skies but Die folded his hands and smiled with the secrets of God in his eyes and Cool saw like a drifting smelt all manner of blessed souls women and children, young men with books and old men with croziers and stalls Praise God and God's mother, Die said for God and God's mother have sent the blessedest souls that walk in the world to fill your heart with content and which is the blessedest, Cool said where all are comely and good is it these that with golden theorables are singing about the wood my eyes are blinking, Die said with the secrets of God wharf blind but I can see where the wind goes and follow the way of the wind and blessedness goes where the wind goes and when it is gone we are dead I see the blessedest soul in the world and he nods a drunken head oh blessedness comes in the night and the day and wither the wise heart knows and one has seen in the redness of wine the incorruptible rose that drowsily drops faint leaves on him and the sweetness of desire while time and the world are ebbing away in twilight's of dew and of fire End of poem, this recording is in the public domain The Secret Rose by William Butler Yates Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist Far off, most secret and inviolate rose enfold me in my hour of hours where those who sought thee in the holy sepulchre or in the wine vat dwell beyond the stir and tumult of defeated dreams and deep among pale eyelids heavy with the sleep men have named beauty Thy great leaves enfold the ancient beards the helms of ruby and gold of the crowned magi and the king whose eyes saw the pierced hands and rude of elder rise in druid vapour and make the torches dim till vain frenzy awoke and he died and him who met fawn walking among flaming dew by a grey shore where the wind never blew and lost the world and aimer for a kiss and him who drove the gods out of their lists and till a hundred mourns had flowered red feasted and wept the barrows of his dead and the proud dreaming king who flung the crown and sorrow away and calling bard and clown dwelt among wine stained wanderers in deep woods and him who sold tillage and house and goods and sought through lands and islands numberless years until he found with laughter and with tears a woman of so shining loveliness that men threshed corn at midnight by a tress a little stolen tress I too await the hour of thy great wind of love and hate when shall the stars be blown about the sky like the sparks blown out of a smithy and die surely thine hour has come thy great wind blows far off most secret and inviolate rose end of poem this recording is in the public domain made quiet by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist where has made quiet gone to nodding her russet hood the winds that awakened the stars are blowing through my blood oh how could I be so calm when she rose up to depart now words that called up the lightning are hurtling through my heart end of poem this recording is in the public domain The Traveille of Passion by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist when the flaming lute thronged angelic door is wide when an immortal passion breathes in mortal clay our hearts endure the scourge, the plattered thorns the way crowded with bitter faces the wounds in palm and side the hyssop heavy sponge the flowers by Kedron's stream we will bend down and loosen our hair over you let it may drop faint perfume and be heavy with dew lilies of death-pale hope roses of passionate dream end of poem this recording is in the public domain The Lover Pleads with His Friend for Old Friends by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist though you are in your shining days voices among the crowd and new friends busy with your praise be not unkind or proud but think about old friends the most time's bitter flood will rise your beauty perish and be lost for all eyes but these eyes end of poem this recording's in the public domain A Lover Speaks to the Heroes of His Songs in Coming Days by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist oh women kneeling by your altar rails long hence when songs I wove from my beloved hide the prayer and smoke from this dead heart drifts through the violet air and covers away the smoke of mur and frankincense bend down and pray for the great sin I wove in song till marry of the wounded heart cry a sweet cry and call to my beloved and me no longer fly amid the hovering piteous penitential throng end of poem this recording is in the public domain The Poet Pleads with the Elemental Powers by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist the powers whose name and shape no living creature knows have pulled the immortal rose and though the seven lights bowed in their dance and wept the polar dragon slept his heavy rings uncoiled from glimmering deep to deep when will he wake from sleep great powers of falling wave and wind and windy fire with your harmonious choir encircle her I love and sing her into peace that my old care may cease unfold your flaming wings and cover out of sight the nets of day and night dim powers of drowsy thought let her no longer be like the pale cup of the sea when winds have gathered and sun and moon burned dim above its cloudy rim but let a gentle silence wrought with music flow with her footsteps go end of poem this recording is in the public domain he wishes his beloved were dead by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist were you but lying cold and dead and lights were pailing out of the west you would come hither and bend your head and I would lay my head on your breast and you would murmur tender words forgiving me because you were dead nor would you rise and hasten away though you have the will of the wild birds but know your hair was bound and wound about the stars and moon and sun oh would beloved that you lay under the dock leaves in the ground while lights were pailing one by one end of poem this recording is in the public domain he wishes for the cloths of heaven by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist had I the heavens embroidered cloths and wrought with golden and silver light the blue and the dim and the dark cloths of night and light and the half light I would spread the cloths under your feet but I being poor have only my dreams I have spread my dreams under your feet tread softly because you tread on my dreams end of poem this recording is in the public domain he thinks of his past greatness when a part of the constellations of heaven by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist I have drunk ale from the country of the young and weep because I know all things now I have been a hazel tree and they hung the pilot's star and the crooked plough among my leaves in times out of mind I became a rush that horses tread I became a man a hater of the wind knowing one out of all things alone that his head would not lie on the breast or his lips on the hair of the woman that he loves until he dies although the rushes and the fowl of the air cry of his love with their pitiful cries end of poem this recording is in the public domain The Fiddler of Dooney by William Butler Yates read for LibriVox.org by Newgate novelist When I play on my fiddle in Dooney folk dance like a wave of the sea my cousin is Priest and Kilvarnet my brother in Mochrebrie I passed my brother and cousin they read in their books of prayer I read in my book of songs I bought at the Sligo fair when we come at the end of time to Peter sitting in state he will smile on the three old spirits but call me first through the gate for the good are always the merry save by an evil chance and the merry love the fiddle and the merry love to dance and when the folk there spy me they will all come up to me with here is the Fiddler of Dooney and dance like a wave of the sea end of poem this recording is in the public domain and end of The Wind Among the Reeds by William Butler Yates thank you for listening