William Butler Yeats { 1865--1939 }
To a Young Beauty
DEAR fellow-artist, why so freeWith every sort of company,
With every Jack and Jill?
Choose your companions from the best;
Who draws a bucket with the rest
Soon topples down the hill.
You may, that mirror for a school,
Be passionate, not bountiful
As common beauties may,
Who were not born to keep in trim
With old Ezekiel's cherubim
But those of Beauvarlet.
I know what wages beauty gives,
How hard a life her servant lives,
Yet praise the winters gone:
There is not a fool can call me friend,
And I may dine at journey's end
With Landor and with Donne.
9 comments:
Lovely. Very fitting for today. (((((VINCE))))) *Barb*
Yeats is very good! Are you green or orange. I am orange.
Hey! I had a hard time finding you. Thanks for leaving a comment in my journal! http://journals.aol.com/carolhehe/GypsyPaths
Indeed, "the Irish Poets" - Beautiful entry -
Love Yeats - Vince, excellent choice!!!
Nice touch to add the Flag. _rRose
All the good Potes, V
three 4 three! And a Happy Irish Day 2 you.
[that is, i'm schtill Boiling cabbage]
Love Yeats!
Connie
Nice journal I enjoyed it. Love Sal
www.BritSAL.com.
http://journals.aol.co.uk/britsal/SalsJournal/
Who draws a bucket with the rest
Soon topples down the hill.
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Ah yes, conformity, the death of the artist! This is a great poem!
I write it out in a verse--
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Whereever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
--Easter, 1916 WBY
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