In the stillness of the evening light,
Where shadows dance and whispers fade,
A poet’s voice has taken flight,
Leaving words in twilight’s shade.

Yeats, your verses softly sing,
In hearts and minds they still reside,
A journey through the past they bring,
As time becomes a gentle guide.

Though death has closed your eyes to sleep,
Your legacy, a beacon bright,
In every line, a memory deep,
Illuminating endless night.

With every poem, a soul revealed,
A tapestry of dreams and fears,
Though you are gone, your fate is sealed,
Eternal in the flow of years.