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Poem by William Butler Yeats


Where My Books Go


All the words that I utter,
And all the words that I write,
Must spread out their wings untiring,
And never rest in their flight,
Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,
And sing to you in the night,
Beyond where the waters are moving,
Storm-darkenТd or starry bright.



William Butler Yeats


William Butler Yeats's other poems:
  1. The Magi
  2. The Municipal Gallery Revisited
  3. Men Improve with the Years
  4. Tom at Cruachan
  5. Me Peacock


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