William Butler Yeats

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

Words Poem by William Butler Yeats


I HAD this thought a while ago,
'My darling cannot understand
What I have done, or what would do
In this blind bitter land.'
And I grew weary of the sun
Until my thoughts cleared up again,
Remembering that the best I have done
Was done to make it plain;
That every year I have cried, 'At length
My darling understands it all,
Because I have come into my strength,
And words obey my call';
That had she done so who can say
What would have shaken from the sieve?
I might have thrown poor words away
And been content to live.

Submitted: Thursday, May 17, 2001
Edited: Thursday, May 17, 2001

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