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Read more poems by William Butler Yeats: William Butler Yeats Poems at Poetry X.

I thought of your beauty, and this arrow,
Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow.
There's no man may look upon her, no man,
As when newly grown to be a woman,
Tall and noble but with face and bosom
Delicate in colour as apple blossom.
This beauty's kinder, yet for a reason
I could weep that the old is out of season.

Added: 5 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 23 May 2012 2:16 PM | Viewed: 3974 times

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