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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

A Man Young and Old: II. Human Dignity
Like the moon her kindness is,
If kindness I may call
What has no comprehension in’t,
But is the same for all
As though my sorrow were a scene
Upon a painted wall.
 
So like a bit of stone I lie
Under a broken tree.
I could recover if I shrieked
My heart’s agony
To passing bird, but I am dumb
From human dignity.

#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1928 #TheTower

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