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Poem by William Butler Yeats Consolation O but there is wisdom In what the sages said; But stretch that body for a while And lay down that head Till I have told the sages Where man is comforted. How could passion run so deep Had I never thought That the crime of being born Blackens all our lot? But where the crime's committed The crime can be forgot. William Butler Yeats William Butler Yeats's other poems:
Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1679 Views |
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