William Butler Yeats. b. 1865
862. Where My Books go
1 min to read 51 words
ALL the words that I utter, And all the words that I write, Must spread out their wings untiring, And never rest in their flight, Till they come where your sad, sad heart is, And sing to you in the night, Beyond where the waters are moving, Storm-darken'd or starry bright.
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William Butler Yeats. b. 1865
863. When You are Old
1 min to read 100 words
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