Can someone help me with WB Yeats poem title?

Stacey91

I read a WB Yeats poem some years ago and I am looking to find it but I have forgotten its title.In it the poet speaks of being involved in a short lived romance but he is determined to make the most of it.Sorry I cannot provide anymore detail but I would be so grateful if anyone could help me out!

Wowbagger

Would it be this one?

Down By the Salley Gardens
By William Butler Yeats

Down by the salley gardens

my love and I did meet;

She passed the salley gardens

with little snow-white feet.

She bid me take love easy,

as the leaves grow on the tree;

But I, being young and foolish,

with her would not agree.



In a field by the river

my love and I did stand,

And on my leaning shoulder

she laid her snow-white hand.

She bid me take life easy,

as the grass grows on the weirs;

But I was young and foolish,

and now am full of tears.

Stacey91

Thanks for the swift response wowbagger!I don't actually think that's it,its killing me that I can't find it,I actually wanted to get a line tattooed from it ha!Thanks anyway!

Wowbagger wrote: »

Would it be this one?

Down By the Salley Gardens
By William Butler Yeats

Down by the salley gardens

my love and I did meet;

She passed the salley gardens

with little snow-white feet.

She bid me take love easy,

as the leaves grow on the tree;

But I, being young and foolish,

with her would not agree.



In a field by the river

my love and I did stand,

And on my leaning shoulder

she laid her snow-white hand.

She bid me take life easy,

as the grass grows on the weirs;

But I was young and foolish,

and now am full of tears.

Wowbagger

YW. I'll have another look, but you are in the right place.

radia

Hopefully you should find it among these: Collected Poems of WB Yeats.
The titles are listed inside the various volumes, linked to the full text poems. Would you recognise the title if you saw it?
Based on title alone, I'll have a guess at Ephemera:

EPHEMERA

'YOUR eyes that once were never weary of mine
Are bowed in sorrow under pendulous lids,
Because our love is waning.'

And then She:
'Although our love is waning, let us stand
By the lone border of the lake once more,
Together in that hour of gentleness
When the poor tired child, passion, falls asleep.
How far away the stars seem, and how far
Is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart!'

Pensive they paced along the faded leaves,
While slowly he whose hand held hers replied:
'Passion has often worn our wandering hearts.'

The woods were round them, and the yellow leaves
Fell like faint meteors in the gloom, and once
A rabbit old and lame limped down the path;
Autumn was over him: and now they stood
On the lone border of the lake once more:
Turning, he saw that she had thrust dead leaves
Gathered in silence, dewy as her eyes,
In bosom and hair.

'Ah, do not mourn,' he said,
'That we are tired, for other loves await us;
Hate on and love through unrepining hours.
Before us lies eternity; our souls
Are love, and a continual farewell.'

Stacey91

Thank you so much radia,I think that's the one!God I'm reminded again how beautiful and eloquent his writing was!