HE BIDS HIS BELOVED BE AT PEACE
by: William Butler Yeats
(1865-1939)
- HEAR the Shadowy Horses, their
long manes a-shake,
- Their hoofs heavy with tumult, their eyes glimmering white;
- The North unfolds above them clinging, creeping night,
- The East her hidden joy before the morning break,
- The West weeps in pale dew and sighs passing away,
- The South is pouring down roses of crimson fire:
- O vanity of Sleep, Hope, Dream, endless Desire,
- The Horses of Disaster plunge in the heavy clay:
- Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat
- Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast,
- Drowning love's lonely hour in deep twilight of rest,
- And hiding their tossing manes and their tumultuous feet.
"He Bids His Beloved Be at
Peace" is reprinted from The Wind Among the Reeds.
W.B. Yeats. London: Elkin Mathews, 1899. |
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