A most astonishing thing -- Seventy years have I lived; (Hurrah for the flowers of Spring, For Spring is here again.) Seventy years have I lived No ragged beggar-man, Seventy years have I lived, Seventy years man and boy, And never have I danced for joy.
Return to the William Butler Yeats library , or . . . Read the next poem; In Memory Of Alfred Pollexfen