William Butler Yeats

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

The Pity Of Love - Poem by William Butler Yeats

A PITY beyond all telling
Is hid in the heart of love:
The folk who are buying and selling,
The clouds on their journey above,
The cold wet winds ever blowing,
And the shadowy hazel grove
Where mouse-grey waters are flowing,
Threaten the head that I love.

Comments about The Pity Of Love by William Butler Yeats

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: journey, heart, love, water, wind

Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 17, 2001

Poem Edited: Thursday, May 17, 2001

[Hata Bildir]