William Butler Yeats
Church And State
HERE is fresh matter, poet,
Matter for old age meet;
Might of the Church and the State,
Their mobs put under their feet.
O but heart's wine shall run pure,
Mind's bread grow sweet.
That were a cowardly song,
Wander in dreams no more;
What if the Church and the State
Are the mob that howls at the door!
Wine shall run thick to the end,
Bread taste sour.
William Butler Yeats's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Church And State by William Butler Yeats )
Did you read them?
- Chibok Blues, Tony Adah
- Staged Fright, Luke J. Holt
- The Wall of Water Falls, Brandt Nightingale
- Prayer of Ruin, Luke J. Holt
- Sweet Memories, Lilly Emery
- Earth's Time Clock Ticks, Patricia Kelley
- I Have Fallen In Deep, Lilly Emery
- Bramblehash, Luke J. Holt
- A Bare Night, Tony Adah
- That Special Feeling, Bill Cantrell