A great voice, once he found it. His early work is mediocre, but from his thirties on he is astonishing. One of the greatest poets of this century.

The reputation of many acclaimed 20th century Modernist poets has faded with time (Eliot, Lowell, Ezra Pound). Yeats' work, by contrast, remains as fresh and vital as if it was written yesterday: "Things fall apart/The center cannot hold/Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world/The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everwhere/The ceremony of innocence is drowned/The best lack all conviction/While the worst are full/Of passionate intensity/...."-Yeats, The Second Coming

One of the Greatest Poets ever published.His best work transcends time and culture and touches the spirit deeply.

I have written elsewhere, perhaps in the IRA posting under terrorists groups how the Easter Rebellion and the execution of its leaders changed Irish attitudes about English rule. Yeats captures that in his Easter 1916 poem about the "terrible beauty." I give you the last stanza. Too long a sacrifice Can make a stone of the heart. O when may it suffice? That is Heaven's part, our part To murmur name upon name, As a mother names her child When sleep at last has come On limbs that had run wild. What is it but nightfall? No, no, not night but death; Was it needless death after all? For England may keep faith For all that is done and said. We know their dream; enough To know they dreamed and are dead; And what if excess of love Bewildered them till they died? I write it out in a verse - MacDonagh and MacBride And Connolly and pearse Now and in time to be, Wherever green is worn, Are changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born.

A poet of profound subjects. Yeats' poems ranged from romantic reverie to religious symbolism to Celtic/Irish history. His poem When You are Old is one of the most romantically graceful poems (in my opinion) ever written.

Probably better at picking both the best, most correct words, and the best sense of rhythm in poetry of anyone.

One of Eire's finest treasures.

My first exposure to Yeats was in a children's book of poetry that was originally my father's. It introduced me to "He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven", words that still linger. Although I've never visited Ireland, the love Yeats showed for his country in his poetry made me glad I can claim Irish ancestry, though a number of generations ago. Some of my favourites are "An Irish Airman Forsees His Death", "The Lake Isle of Innisfree", "Easter 1916".

Probably the finest English-language poet of the 20th century;with a rare appeal to both intellectual scholar and the ordinary lover of memorable verse.Lyrical,beautifully honed craftsmanship,keen political sense,a deeply felt and evocative love of nature and his country Ireland.Many gems;I particularly treasure The Song of Wandering Aengus,When you are Old,He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, and The Lake Isle of Innisfree.My visits to the west of Ireland were enhanced by the atmosphere and images he'd conjured.