Four Years   By: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

Four Years by William Butler Yeats is an introspective collection of poetry that takes readers on a profound journey through the depths of the human experience. With his incredible skill for crafting words, Yeats touches upon themes of love, loss, and the fleeting nature of time, leaving readers mesmerized by his profound insight into the human condition.

The book is divided into four parts, each representing a different year in the poet's life. In these pages, we witness Yeats' evolution as a writer and also gain a deeper understanding of his personal growth. The poems in Four Years reflect the various stages of his life, capturing the essence of youth, the turbulence of relationships, and the eventual acceptance of aging and mortality.

One of the most captivating aspects of Yeats' poetry is his ability to evoke intense emotions through simple yet poignant imagery. Each poem, carefully crafted, transports readers to vivid landscapes and paints vibrant characters. The language is rich and evocative, laced with powerful metaphors that linger long after the last page is turned.

Additionally, Four Years showcases Yeats' exploration of different poetic forms and styles. From lyrical pieces that flow like a melody to complex and thought-provoking verses, he demonstrates his versatility as a writer. This variety contributes to the immersive experience of reading the book, as readers are constantly engaged by the unexpected twists and turns in style and content.

Furthermore, the themes addressed in Four Years are timeless and relatable. Yeats delves into the complexities of human relationships, intertwining personal experiences with universal truths. Whether contemplating love and its transitory nature, or reflecting on the passage of time and the inevitability of death, his words resonate with readers on a deep level, leaving a lasting impact.

While Four Years may be considered a contemplative collection, it is not without moments of sheer beauty and hope. Yeats weaves threads of optimism and longing amidst the melancholy, showcasing his knack for balancing both light and shadow in his work. Ultimately, his ability to capture the essence of the human spirit, with all its vulnerabilities and aspirations, is what sets this book apart.

In conclusion, Four Years is a remarkable collection of poetry that showcases the brilliance of William Butler Yeats as a writer. With his profound insight, evocative language, and timeless themes, he invites readers to embark on a reflective journey through the human experience. This collection is a testament to Yeats' mastery of words and his ability to capture the ever-elusive beauty and complexity of life.

First Page:

At the end of the eighties my father and mother, my brother and sisters and myself, all newly arrived from Dublin, were settled in Bedford Park in a red brick house with several wood mantlepieces copied from marble mantlepieces by the brothers Adam, a balcony, and a little garden shadowed by a great horse chestnut tree. Years before we had lived there, when the crooked, ostentatiously picturesque streets, with great trees casting great shadows, had been anew enthusiasm: the Pre Raphaelite movement at last affecting life. But now exaggerated criticism had taken the place of enthusiasm; the tiled roofs, the first in modern London, were said to leak, which they did not, & the drains to be bad, though that was no longer true; and I imagine that houses were cheap. I remember feeling disappointed because the co operative stores, with their little seventeenth century panes, were so like any common shop; and because the public house, called 'The Tabard' after Chaucer's Inn, was so plainly a common public house; and because the great sign of a trumpeter designed by Rooke, the Pre Raphaelite artist, had been freshened by some inferior hand. The big red brick church had never pleased me, and I was accustomed, when I saw the wooden balustrade that ran along the slanting edge of the roof, where nobody ever walked or could walk, to remember the opinion of some architect friend of my father's, that it had been put there to keep the birds from falling off... Continue reading book >>