A Woman Homer sung
by William Butler Yeats

If any man drew near When I was young, I thought, He holds her dear, And shook with hate and fear. But oh, twas bitter wrong If he could pass her by With an indifferent eye. Whereon I wrote and wrought, And now, being gray, I dream that I have brought To such a pitch my thought That coming time can say, He shadowed in a glass What thing her body was. For she had fiery blood When I was young, And trod so sweetly proud As twere upon a cloud, A woman Homer sung, That life and letters seem But an heroic dream.
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