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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: 20 Mar 2019 9:54 AM | Viewed: 5774 times

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