When you and my true lover meet And he plays tunes between your feet. Speak no evil of the soul, Nor think that body is the whole, For I that am his daylight lady Know worse evil of the body; But in honour split his love Till either neither have enough, That I may hear if we should kiss A contrapuntal serpent hiss, You, should hand explore a thigh, All the labouring heavens sigh.
Return to the William Butler Yeats library , or . . . Read the next poem; The Lake isle Of Innesfree