To Dorothy Wellesley
William Butler Yeats
STRETCH towards the moonless midnight of the trees, As though that hand could reach to where they stand, And they but famous old upholsteries Delightful to the touch; tighten that hand As though to draw them closer yet. Rammed full Of that most sensuous silence of the night (For since the horizon's bought strange dogs are still) Climb to your chamber full of books and wait, No books upon the knee, and no one there But a Great Dane that cannot bay the moon And now lies sunk in sleep. What climbs the stair? Nothing that common women ponder on If you are worrh my hope! Neither Content Nor satisfied Conscience, but that great family Some ancient famous authors mistepresent, The proud Furies each with her torch on high.
Next 10 Poems
- William Butler Yeats : To His Heart, Bidding It Have No Fear
- William Butler Yeats : To Ireland In The Coming Times
- William Butler Yeats : To Some I Have Talked With By The Fire
- William Butler Yeats : To Songs Of A Fool
- William Butler Yeats : To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time
- William Butler Yeats : Tom At Cruachan
- William Butler Yeats : Tom O'roughley
- William Butler Yeats : Tom The Lunatic
- William Butler Yeats : Towards Break Of Day
- William Butler Yeats : Two Song From A Play
Previous 10 Poems
- William Butler Yeats : To Be Carved On A Stone At Thoor Ballylee
- William Butler Yeats : To An Isle In The Water
- William Butler Yeats : To A Young Girl
- William Butler Yeats : To A Young Beauty
- William Butler Yeats : To A Wealthy Man Who Promised A Second Subscription To The Dublin Municipal Gallery If It Were Proved The People Wanted Pictures
- William Butler Yeats : To A Squirrel At Kyle-na No
- William Butler Yeats : To A Shade
- William Butler Yeats : To A Poet, Who Would Have Me Praise Certain Bad Poets, Imitators Of His And Mine
- William Butler Yeats : To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Nothing
- William Butler Yeats : To A Child Dancing In The Wind