ALL the heavy days are over;
Leave the body’s coloured pride
Underneath the grass and clover,
With the feet laid side by side.
 
One with her are mirth and duty;
Bear the gold-embroidered dress,
For she needs not her sad beauty,
To the scented oaken press.
 
Hers the kiss of Mother Mary,
The long hair is on her face;
Still she goes with footsteps wary
Full of earth’s old timid grace.
 
With white feet of angels seven
Her white feet go glimmering;
And above the deep of heaven,
Flame on flame, and wing on wing.

  • 0
  • 0
  •  
  •  
Login to comment...
Email

Other works by W. B. Yeats...

Some poets who follow W. B. Yeats...

Benedetta Merlo Lisandro Montanaro Emrah Mujic R. A. Queiroz Day Isabella Koldras