Put off that mask of burning gold With emerald eyes. O no, my dear, you make so bold To find if hearts be wild and wise, And yet not cold. I would but find whats there to find, Love or deceit. It was the mask engaged your mind, And after set your heart to beat, Not whats behind. But lest you are my enemy, I must enquire. O no, my dear, let all that be, What matter, so there is but fire In you, in me?
Return to the William Butler Yeats library , or . . . Read the next poem; The Meditation Of The Old Fisherman