“ . . . after twenty centuries of stony sleep, what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches toward Bethlehem to be… — W. B. Yeats Copy Share Image
“All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old, The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering… — W. B. Yeats Copy Share Image
“Now days are dragon-ridden, the nightmare Rides upon sleep: a drunken soldiery Can leave the mother, murdered at her door, To crawl in her… — W. B. Yeats Copy Share Image
“For he comes, the human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, From a world more full of… — W. B. YEATS Copy Share Image
“How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul… — W. B. Yeats Copy Share Image
