- Were you but lying cold and dead,
- And lights were paling out of the West,
- You would come hither, and bend your head,
- And I would lay my head on your breast;
- And you would murmur tender words,
- Forgiving me, because you were dead:
- Nor would you rise and hasten away,
- Though you have the will of wild birds,
- But know your hair was bound and wound
- About the stars and moon and sun:
- O would, beloved, that you lay
- Under the dock-leaves in the ground,
- While lights were paling one by one.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
HE WISHES HIS BELOVED WERE DEAD by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
DOWN BY THE SALLEY GARDENS by: W.B. Yeats
- OWN by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;
- She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.
- She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;
- But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.
- In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
- And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.
- She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
- But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.
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