Poem by William Butler Yeats

Friends

  Now must I these three praise--
  Three women that have wrought
  What joy is in my days;
  One that no passing thought,
  Nor those unpassing cares,
  No, not in these fifteen
  Many times troubled years,
  Could ever come between
  Heart and delighted heart;
  And one because her hand
  Had strength that could unbind
  What none can understand,
  What none can have and thrive,
  Youth's dreamy load, till she
  So changed me that I live
  Labouring in ecstasy.
  And what of her that took
  All till my youth was gone
  With scarce a pitying look?
  How should I praise that one?
  When day begins to break
  I count my good and bad,
  Being wakeful for her sake,
  Remembering what she had,
  What eagle look still shows,
  While up from my heart's root
  So great a sweetness flows
  I shake from head to foot.

1. These Are the Clouds
2. The Mask
3. The Wild Swans at Coole
4. The Cloak, the Boat and the Shoes
5. On Hearing That the Students of Our New University Have Joined the Ancient Order of Hibernians and the Agitation against Immoral Literature

Abbie Brown Friends ("How good to lie a little while")

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