“ . . . after twenty centuries of stony sleep, what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches toward Bethlehem… — W. B. Yeats Copy Share Image
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born? — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
