William Butler Yeats

(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

Quarrel In Old Age


WHERE had her sweetness gone?
What fanatics invent
In this blind bitter town,
Fantasy or incident
Not worth thinking of,
put her in a rage.
I had forgiven enough
That had forgiven old age.
All lives that has lived;
So much is certain;
Old sages were not deceived:
Somewhere beyond the curtain
Of distorting days
Lives that lonely thing
That shone before these eyes
Targeted, trod like Spring.

Submitted: Tuesday, May 15, 2001

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  • William Rodenberg (6/21/2009 5:35:00 PM)

    Marvallous how he portrays his sorrowful and emotional feelings in such beatutiful words. his true love that was felt for this woman really is presented in this writing. she must have been an angel and to see that beautiful gift become soiled through the lies and troubling times is truley a tragic scene indeed. (Report) Reply

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