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

I ranted to the knave and fool,
But outgrew that school,
Would transform the part,
Fit audience found, but cannot rule
My fanatic heart.

I sought my betters:  though in each
Fine manners, liberal speech,
Turn hatred into sport,
Nothing said or done can reach
My fanatic heart.

Out of Ireland have we come.
Great hatred, little room,
Maimed us at the start.
I carry from my mother's womb
A fanatic heart.  

Added: 2 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 26 May 2012 11:28 AM | Viewed: 6334 times

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