Church And State Poem by William Butler Yeats
Church And State
Rating: ★3.1
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.
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5/4/2024 11:08:01 PM # 1.0.0.1119
exhortative and rich with a kind of warning of exploitation of purpose