Ah, but Time has touched a form
That could show what Homer’s age
Bred to be a hero’s wage.
‘Were not all her life but storm,
Would not painters paint a form
Of such noble lines’ I said.
‘Such a delicate high head,
So much sternness and such charm,
Till they had changed us to like strength?’
Ah, but peace that comes at length,
Came when Time had touched her form.
Other works by W. B. Yeats...
To a Wealthy Man Who Promised a Second Subscription to the Dublin Municipal Gallery If It Were Proved the People Wanted Pictures
YOU gave, but will not give again
Until enough of paudeen’s pence
By Biddy’s halfpennies have lain
To be 'some sort of evidence’,
Before you’ll put your guineas dow