British Literature · Classic · Collection · Irish Culture · Irish Literary Renaissance · Irish Literary Revival · Irish Literature · Lyricism · Modernism · Poetry · Romanticism

W.B. Yeats

O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,
The poets labouring all their days
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme
Are overthrown by a woman’s gaze
And by the unlabouring brood of the skies:
And therefore my heart will bow, when dew
Is dropping sleep, until God burn time,
Before the unlabouring stars and you.

— W.B. Yeats, “Aedh tells of the perfect Beauty,” Woodstock Books. (September 1, 1994) Originally published December 1899.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s