Bird sighs for the air,
Thought for I know not where,
For the womb the seed sighs.
Now sinks the same rest
On mind, on nest,
On straining thighs.
How came this ranger
Now sunk in rest,
Stranger with stranger,
On my cold breast?
What's left to sigh for,
Strange night has come;
God's love has hidden him
Out of all harm,
Pleasure has made him
Weak as a worm.
From pleasure of the bed,
Dull as a worm,
His rod and its butting head
Limp as a worm,
His spirit that has fled
Blind as a worm.
-128-
Questia, a part of Gale, Cengage Learning. www.questia.com
Publication information:
Book title: W. B. Yeats, the Tragic Phase:A Study of the Last Poems.
Contributors: Vivienne Koch - Author.
Publisher: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
Place of publication: London.
Publication year: 1951.
Page number: 128.
This material is protected by copyright and, with the exception of fair use, may not be further copied, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means.
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