Poem by William Butler Yeats

* * *

ALL things can tempt me from this craft of verse:
One time it was a woman's face, or worse --
The seeming needs of my fool-driven land;
Now nothing but comes readier to the hand
Than this accustomed toil. When I was young,
I had not given a penny for a song
Did not the poet Sing it with such airs
That one believed he had a sword upstairs;
Yet would be now, could I but have my wish,
Colder and dumber and deafer than a fish. 

1. Tom at Cruachan
2. Me Peacock
3. Under Ben Bulben
4. Love's Loneliness
5. The Cap and Bells

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