Would it were anything but merely voice! The No King cried who after that was King, Because he had not heard of anything That balanced with a word is more than noise; Yet Old Romance being kind, let him prevail Somewhere or somehow that I have forgot, Though hed but cannon, Whereas we that had thought To have lit upon as clean and sweet a tale Have been defeated by that pledge you gave In momentary anger long ago; And I that have not your faith, how shall I know That in the blinding light beyond the grave Well find so good a thing as that we have lost? The hourly kindness, the days common speech, The habitual content of each with each When neither soul nor body has been crossed.
Return to the William Butler Yeats library , or . . . Read the next poem; Lapis Lazuli