Read more poems by William Butler Yeats: William Butler Yeats Poems at Poetry X.
I wander by the edge Of this desolate lake Where wind cries in the sedge: Until the axle break That keeps the stars in their round, And hands hurl in the deep The banners of East and West, And the girdle of light is unhound, Your breast will not lie by the breast Of your beloved in sleep.
Added: 4 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 15 Jan 2021 7:22 PM | Viewed: 6072 times
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