The Song Of The Happy Shepherd (William Butler Yeats Poems)
The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world on dreaming fed; Grey ...
The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world on dreaming fed; Grey ...
I admit the briar Entangled in my hair Did not injure me; My blenching and trembling, Nothing but dissembling, Nothing ...
I am worn out with dreams; A weather-worn, marble triton Among the streams; And all day long I look Upon ...
I think it better that in times like these A poet's mouth be silent, for in truth We have no ...
I Locke sank into a swoon; The Garden died; God took the spinning-jenny Out of his side. II Where got ...
I met the Bishop on the road And much said he and I. 'Those breasts are flat and fallen now, ...
I found that ivory image there Dancing with her chosen youth, But when he wound her coal-black hair As though ...
I met the Bishop on the road And much said he and I. 'Those breasts are flat and fallen now, ...
Though leaves are many, the root is one; Through all the lying days of my youth I swayed my leaves ...
Know, that I would accounted be True brother of a company That sang, to sweeten Ireland's wrong, Ballad and story, ...
Now all the truth is out, Be secret and take defeat From any brazen throat, For how can you compete, ...
Picture and book remain, An acre of green grass For air and exercise, Now strength of body goes; Midnight, an ...
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