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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537359" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Words For Music Perhaps</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I - CRAZY JANE AND THE BISHOP</div><div style="margin:10px 0">BRING me to the blasted oak<br>That I, midnight upon the stroke,<br>(All find safety in the tomb.)<br>May call down curses on his head<br>Because of my dear Jack that's dead.<br>Coxcomb was the least he said:<br>The solid man and the coxcomb.<br>Nor was he Bishop when his ban<br>Banished Jack the Journeyman,<br>(All find safety in the tomb.)<br>Nor so much as parish priest,<br>Yet he, an old book in his fist,<br>Cried that we lived like beast and beast:<br>The solid man and the coxcomb.<br>The Bishop has a skin, God knows,<br>Wrinkled like the foot of a goose,<br>(All find safety in the tomb.)<br>Nor can he hide in holy black<br>The heron's hunch upon his back,<br>But a birch-tree stood my Jack:<br>The solid man and the coxcomb.<br>Jack had my virginity,<br>And bids me to the oak, for he<br>(all find safety in the tomb.)<br>Wanders out into the night<br>And there is shelter under it,<br>But should that other come, I spit:<br>The solid man and the coxcomb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II - CRAZY JANE REPROVED</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I CARE not what the sailors say:<br>All those dreadful thunder-stones,<br>All that storm that blots the day<br>Can but show that Heaven yawns;<br>Great Europa played the fool<br>That changed a lover for a bull.<br>Fol de rol, fol de rol.<br>To round that shell's elaborate whorl,<br>Adorning every secret track<br>With the delicate mother-of-pearl,<br>Made the joints of Heaven crack:<br>So never hang your heart upon<br>A roaring, ranting journeyman.<br>Fol de rol, fol de rol.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III - CRAZY JANE ON THE DAY OF JUDGMENT</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'LOVE is all<br>Unsatisfied<br>That cannot take the whole<br>Body and soul';<br>And that is what Jane said.<br>'Take the sour<br>If you take me<br>I can scoff and lour<br>And scold for an hour.'<br>'That's certainly the case,' said he.<br>'Naked I lay,<br>The grass my bed;<br>Naked and hidden away,<br>That black day';<br>And that is what Jane said.<br>'What can be shown?<br>What true love be?<br>All could be known or shown<br>If Time were but gone.'<br>'That's certainly the case,' said he.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV - CRAZY JANE AND JACK THE JOURNEYMAN</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I KNOW, although when looks meet<br>I tremble to the bone,<br>The more I leave the door unlatched<br>The sooner love is gone,<br>For love is but a skein unwound<br>Between the dark and dawn.<br>A lonely ghost the ghost is<br>That to God shall come;<br>I -- love's skein upon the ground,<br>My body in the tomb --<br>Shall leap into the light lost<br>In my mother's womb.<br>But were I left to lie alone<br>In an empty bed,<br>The skein so bound us ghost to ghost<br>When he turned his head<br>passing on the road that night,<br>Mine must walk when dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V - CRAZY JANE ON GOD</div><div style="margin:10px 0">THAT lover of a night<br>Came when he would,<br>Went in the dawning light<br>Whether I would or no;<br>Men come, men go;<br>All things remain in God.<br>Banners choke the sky;<br>Men-at-arms tread;<br>Armoured horses neigh<br>In the narrow pass:<br>All things remain in God.<br>Before their eyes a house<br>That from childhood stood<br>Uninhabited, ruinous,<br>Suddenly lit up<br>From door to top:<br>All things remain in God.<br>I had wild Jack for a lover;<br>Though like a road<br>That men pass over<br>My body makes no moan<br>But sings on:<br>All things remain in God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI - CRAZY JANE TALKS WITH THE BISHOP</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I MET the Bishop on the road<br>And much said he and I.<br>'Those breasts are flat and fallen now,<br>Those veins must soon be dry;<br>Live in a heavenly mansion,<br>Not in some foul sty.'<br>'Fair and foul are near of kin,<br>And fair needs foul,' I cried.<br>'My friends are gone, but that's a truth<br>Nor grave nor bed denied,<br>Learned in bodily lowliness<br>And in the heart's pride.<br>'A woman can be proud and stiff<br>When on love intent;<br>But Love has pitched his mansion in<br>The place of excrement;<br>For nothing can be sole or whole<br>That has not been rent.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII - CRAZY JANE GROWN OLD LOOKS AT THE DANCERS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I FOUND that ivory image there<br>Dancing with her chosen youth,<br>But when he wound her coal-black hair<br>As though to strangle her, no scream<br>Or bodily movement did I dare,<br>Eyes under eyelids did so gleam;<br>Love is like the lion's tooth.<br>When She, and though some said she played<br>I said that she had danced heart's truth,<br>Drew a knife to strike him dead,<br>I could but leave him to his fate;<br>For no matter what is said<br>They had all that had their hate;<br>Love is like the lion's tooth.<br>Did he die or did she die?<br>Seemed to die or died they both?<br>God be with the times when I<br>Cared not a thraneen for what chanced<br>So that I had the limbs to try<br>Such a dance as there was danced --<br>Love is like the lion's tooth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII - GIRL'S SONG</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I WENT out alone<br>To sing a song or two,<br>My fancy on a man,<br>And you know who.<br>Another came in sight<br>That on a stick relied<br>To hold himself upright;<br>I sat and cried.<br>And that was all my song --<br>When everything is told,<br>Saw I an old man young<br>Or young man old?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IX - YOUNG MAN'S SONG</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'SHE will change,' I cried.<br>'Into a withered crone.'<br>The heart in my side,<br>That so still had lain,<br>In noble rage replied<br>And beat upon the bone:<br>'Uplift those eyes and throw<br>Those glances unafraid:<br>She would as bravely show<br>Did all the fabric fade;<br>No withered crone I saw<br>Before the world was made.'<br>Abashed by that report,<br>For the heart cannot lie,<br>I knelt in the dirt.<br>And all shall bend the knee<br>To my offended heart<br>Until it pardon me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">X - HER ANXIETY</div><div style="margin:10px 0">EARTH in beauty dressed<br>Awaits returning spring.<br>All true love must die,<br>Alter at the best<br>Into some lesser thing.<br>Prove that I lie.<br>Such body lovers have,<br>Such exacting breath,<br>That they touch or sigh.<br>Every touch they give,<br>Love is nearer death.<br>Prove that I lie.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XI - HIS CONFIDENCE</div><div style="margin:10px 0">UNDYING love to buy<br>I wrote upon<br>The corners of this eye<br>All wrongs done.<br>What payment were enough<br>For undying love?<br>I broke my heart in two<br>So hard I struck.<br>What matter? for I know<br>That out of rock,<br>Out of a desolate source,<br>Love leaps upon its course.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XII - LOVE'S LONELINESS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">OLD fathers, great-grandfathers,<br>Rise as kindred should.<br>If ever lover's loneliness<br>Came where you stood,<br>Pray that Heaven protect us<br>That protect your blood.<br>The mountain throws a shadow,<br>Thin is the moon's horn;<br>What did we remember<br>Under the ragged thorn?<br>Dread has followed longing,<br>And our hearts are torn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIII - HER DREAM</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I DREAMED as in my bed I lay,<br>All night's fathomless wisdom come,<br>That I had shorn my locks away<br>And laid them on Love's lettered tomb:<br>But something bore them out of sight<br>In a great tumult of the air,<br>And after nailed upon the night<br>Berenice's burning hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIV - HIS BARGAIN</div><div style="margin:10px 0">WHO talks of Plato's spindle;<br>What set it whirling round?<br>Eternity may dwindle,<br>Time is unwound,<br>Dan and Jerry Lout<br>Change their loves about.<br>However they may take it,<br>Before the thread began<br>I made, and may not break it<br>When the last thread has run,<br>A bargain with that hair<br>And all the windings there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XV - THREE THINGS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O CRUEL Death, give three things back,'<br>Sang a bone upon the shore;<br>'A child found all a child can lack,<br>Whether of pleasure or of rest,<br>Upon the abundance of my breast':<br>A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.<br>'Three dear things that women know,'<br>Sang a bhone upon the shore;<br>'A man if I but held him so<br>When my body was alive<br>Found all the pleasure that life gave':<br>A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.<br>'The third thing that I think of yet,'<br>Sang a bone upon the shore,<br>'Is that morning when I met<br>Face to face my rightful man<br>And did after stretch and yawn':<br>A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XVI - LULLABY</div><div style="margin:10px 0">BELOVED, may your sleep be sound<br>That have found it where you fed.<br>What were all the world's alarms<br>To mighty paris when he found<br>Sleep upon a golden bed<br>That first dawn in Helen's arms?<br>Sleep, beloved, such a sleep<br>As did that wild Tristram know<br>When, the potion's work being done,<br>Roe could run or doe could leap<br>Under oak and beechen bough,<br>Roe could leap or doe could run;<br>Such a sleep and sound as fell<br>Upon Eurotas' grassy bank<br>When the holy bird, that there<br>Accomplished his predestined will,<br>From the limbs of Leda sank<br>But not from her protecting care.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XVII - AFTER LONG SILENCE</div><div style="margin:10px 0">SPEECH after long silence; it is right,<br>All other lovers being estranged or dead,<br>Unfriendly lamplight hid under its shade,<br>The curtains drawn upon unfriendly night,<br>That we descant and yet again descant<br>Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song:<br>Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young<br>We loved each other and were ignorant.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XVIII - MAD AS THE MIST AND SNOW</div><div style="margin:10px 0">BOLT and bar the shutter,<br>For the foul winds blow:<br>Our minds are at their best this night,<br>And I seem to know<br>That everything outside us is<br>Mad as the mist and snow.<br>Horace there by Homer stands,<br>Plato stands below,<br>And here is Tully's open page.<br>How many years ago<br>Were you and I unlettered lads<br>Mad as the mist and snow?<br>You ask what makes me sigh, old friend,<br>What makes me shudder so?<br>I shudder and I sigh to think<br>That even Cicero<br>And many-minded Homer were<br>Mad as the mist and snow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIX - THOSE DANCING DAYS ARE GONE</div><div style="margin:10px 0">COME, let me sing into your ear;<br>Those dancing days are gone,<br>All that silk and satin gear;<br>Crouch upon a stone,<br>Wrapping that foul body up<br>In as foul a rag:<br>I carry the sun in a golden cup.<br>The moon in a silver bag.<br>Curse as you may I sing it through;<br>What matter if the knave<br>That the most could pleasure you,<br>The children that he gave,<br>Are somewhere sleeping like a top<br>Under a marble flag?<br>I carry the sun in a golden cup.<br>The moon in a silver bag.<br>I thought it out this very day.<br>Noon upon the clock,<br>A man may put pretence away<br>Who leans upon a stick,<br>May sing, and sing until he drop,<br>Whether to maid or hag:<br>I carry the sun in a golden cup,<br>The moon in a silver bag.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XX - 'I AM OF IRELAND'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> AM of Ireland,<br>And the Holy Land of Ireland,<br>And time runs on,' cried she.<br>'Come out of charity,<br>Come dance with me in Ireland.'<br>One man, one man alone<br>In that outlandish gear,<br>One solitary man<br>Of all that rambled there<br>Had turned his stately head.<br>That is a long way off,<br>And time runs on,' he said,<br>'And the night grows rough.'<br>I am of Ireland,<br>And the Holy Land of Ireland,<br>And time runs on,' cried she.<br>'Come out of charity<br>And dance with me in Ireland.'<br>The fiddlers are all thumbs,<br>Or the fiddle-string accursed,<br>The drums and the kettledrums<br>And the trumpets all are burst,<br>And the trombone,' cried he,<br>'The trumpet and trombone,'<br>And cocked a malicious eye,<br>'But time runs on, runs on.'<br>I am of Ireland,<br>And the Holy Land of Ireland,<br>And time runs on,' cried she.<br>'Come out of charity<br>And dance with me in Ireland.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XXI - THE DANCER AT CRUACHAN AND CRO-PATRICK</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I, PROCLAIMING that there is<br>Among birds or beasts or men<br>One that is perfect or at peace.<br>Danced on Cruachan's windy plain,<br>Upon Cro-patrick sang aloud;<br>All that could run or leap or swim<br>Whether in wood, water or cloud,<br>Acclaiming, proclaiming, declaiming Him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XXII - TOM THE LUNATIC</div><div style="margin:10px 0">SANG old Tom the lunatic<br>That sleeps under the canopy:<br>'What change has put my thoughts astray<br>And eyes that had s-o keen a sight?<br>What has turned to smoking wick<br>Nature's pure unchanging light?<br>'Huddon and Duddon and Daniel O'Leary.<br>Holy Joe, the beggar-man,<br>Wenching, drinking, still remain<br>Or sing a penance on the road;<br>Something made these eyeballs weary<br>That blinked and saw them in a shroud.<br>'Whatever stands in field or flood,<br>Bird, beast, fish or man,<br>Mare or stallion, cock or hen,<br>Stands in God's unchanging eye<br>In all the vigour of its blood;<br>In that faith I live or die.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XXIII - TOM AT CRUACHAN</div><div style="margin:10px 0">ON Cruachan's plain slept he<br>That must sing in a rhyme<br>What most could shake his soul:<br>'The stallion Eternit<br>Mounted the mare of Time,<br>'Gat the foal of the world.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XXIV - OLD TOM AGAIN</div><div style="margin:10px 0">THINGS out of perfection sail,<br>And all their swelling canvas wear,<br>Nor shall the self-begotten fail<br>Though fantastic men suppose<br>Building-yard and stormy shore,<br>Winding-sheet and swaddling -- clothes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XXV - THE DELPHIC ORACLE UPON PLOTINUS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">BEHOLD that great Plotinus swim,<br>Buffeted by such seas;<br>Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him,<br>But the Golden Race looks dim,<br>Salt blood blocks his eyes.<br>Scattered on the level grass<br>Or winding through the grove<br>plato there and Minos pass,<br>There stately Pythagoras<br>And all the choir of Love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Butler+Yeats">William Butler Yeats</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537359" data-title="Words For Music Perhaps de William Butler Yeats" data-description="I - CRAZY JANE AND THE BISHOP

BRING me to the blasted oak
That I, midnight upon the stroke,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
May call down curses on his head
Because of my dear Jack that's dead.
Coxcomb was the least he said:
The solid man and the ..."></div>
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