A Man Young And Old:- His Memories

By William Butler Yeats

We should be hidden from their eyes,
Being but holy shows
And bodies broken like a thorn
Whereon the bleak north blows,
To think of buried Hector
And that none living knows.

The women take so little stock
In what I do or say
They’d sooner leave their cosseting
To hear a jackass bray;
My arms are like the twisted thorn
And yet there beauty lay;

The first of all the tribe lay there
And did such pleasure take,
She who had brought great Hector down
And put all Troy to wreck,
That she cried into this ear,
‘Strike me if I shriek.’

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on whatsapp
Share on telegram
Share on email

Read More Poetry

Ozymandias By Percy Bysshe Shelley

Ozymandias By Percy Bysshe Shelley Out of the night that covers me,      Black as the pit from pole to pole,I thank whatever gods may be      For my

Download
Get a copy sent to your email right NOW!
Free Poetry Editing
Checklist & Guidelines
Download Free Checklist
Download
Get a copy sent to your email right NOW!
Free Poetry Editing
Checklist & Guidelines
Download Free Checklist
Join Our Family & Subscribe To Our Newsletter
Privacy Policy: This information will never be shared with third parties.
Subscribe Now!
Join Our Family & Subscribe To Our Newsletter
Privacy Policy: This information will never be shared with third parties.
Subscribe Now!