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Poem by William Butler Yeats


A Woman Homer Sung


IF any man drew near
When I was young,
I thought, 'He holds her dear,'
And shook with hate and fear.
But O! 'twas bitter wrong
If he could pass her by
With an indifferent eye.
Whereon I wrote and wrought,
And now, being grey,
I dream that I have brought
To such a pitch my thought
That coming time can say,
'He shadowed in a glass
What thing her body was.'
For she had fiery blood
When I was young,
And trod so sweetly proud
As 'twere upon a cloud,
A woman Homer sung,
That life and letters seem
But an heroic dream.



William Butler Yeats


William Butler Yeats's other poems:
  1. The Rose of the World
  2. For Anne Gregory
  3. The Rose of Battle
  4. The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the Water
  5. The Lover Tells of the Rose in His Heart


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