The Living Beauty

A poem by William Butler Yeats

I’ll say and maybe dream I have drawn content—
Seeing that time has frozen up the blood,
The wick of youth being burned and the oil spent—
From beauty that is cast out of a mould
In bronze, or that in dazzling marble appears,
Appears, and when we have gone is gone again,
Being more indifferent to our solitude
Than ’twere an apparition. O heart, we are old,
The living beauty is for younger men,
We cannot pay its tribute of wild tears.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'The Living Beauty' by William Butler Yeats

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy