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Poem by William Butler Yeats


Under Saturn


DO not because this day I have grown saturnine
Imagine that lost love, inseparable from my thought
Because I have no other youth, can make me pine;
For how should I forget the wisdom that you brought,
The comfort that you made? Although my wits have gone
On a fantastic ride, my horse's flanks are spurred
By childish memories of an old cross Pollexfen,
And of a Middleton, whose name you never heard,
And of a red-haired Yeats whose looks, although he died
Before my time, seem like a vivid memory.
You heard that labouring man who had served my people. He said
Upon the open road, near to the Sligo quay --
No, no, not said, but cried it out -- 'You have come again,
And surely after twenty years it was time to come.'
I am thinking of a child's vow sworn in vain
Never to leave that valley his fathers called their home. 



William Butler Yeats


William Butler Yeats's other poems:
  1. The Rose of Battle
  2. For Anne Gregory
  3. The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the Water
  4. The Rose of the World
  5. The Lover Tells of the Rose in His Heart


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