The Wild Swans At Coole
THE trees are in their autumn beauty, / The woodland paths are dry,
A Song
❦
I THOUGHT no more was needed
Youth to polong
Than dumb-bell and foil
To keep the body young.
O who could have foretold
That the heart grows old?
Though I have many words,
What woman's satisfied,
I am no longer faint
Because at her side?
O who could have foretold
That the heart grows old?
I have not lost desire
But the heart that I had;
I thought would burn my body
Laid on the death-bed,
For who could have foretold
That the heart grows old?
More poems by William Butler Yeats
A Man Young And Old: XI. From Oedipus At Colonus
Endure what life God gives and ask no longer span; / Cease to remember the delights of youth, travel-wearied aged man;
The Winding Stair And Other Poems
IN MEMORY OF EVA GORE-BOOTH AND CON MARKIEWICZ / THE light of evening, Lissadell,
The Ghost Of Roger Casement
O WHAT has made that sudden noise? / What on the threshold stands?