William Butler Yeats
sat, a solitary man,
In a crowded London shop,
An open book and empty cup
On the marble table-top.
While on the shop and street I gazed
My body of a sudden blazed;
And twenty minutes more or less
It seemed, so great my happiness,
That I was blessed and could bless.”
aught in that sensual music all neglect; Monuments of unageing intellect"
ome away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand"
f all the words from tongue or pen the worst of all are: 'What might have been'
ever shall a young man,
Thrown into despair
By those great honey-coloured
Ramparts at your ear,
Love you for yourself alone
And not your yellow hair.”
body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance?”