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Posts Tagged ‘W.B. Yeats’

Although I’m an Irish lass by genes and inclination, my idea of a St. Patrick’s Day celebration is soda bread, black tea and Yeats.  (If there’s an Irish version of “Bah humbug,” insert here.) Needless to say, I celebrate alone.  But I left some poems by Yeats at the local Irish pub for those whose celebrating takes a jollier turn.

poems are on lower left windows

poems are on lower left windows

 

Yeats’ “A Drinking Song” was a no-brainer for the occasion:

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And a more sobering poem of his:

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That one holds some of my favorite lines ever from any poem:

And under every dancer

A dead man in his grave

 

And because this particular pub is THE meeting place for old pals on St. Patrick’s Day, I left this:

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Finally, you can’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day without a good toast and an Irish blessing, so I left both behind:

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This one is dear to me:

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Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

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