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Read more poems by William Butler Yeats: William Butler Yeats Poems at Poetry X.

Here is fresh matter, poet,
Matter for old age meet;
Might of the Church and the State,
Their mobs put under their feet.
O but heart's wine shall run pure,
Mind's bread grow sweet.

That were a cowardly song,
Wander in dreams no more;
What if the Church and the State
Are the mob that howls at the door!
Wine shall run thick to the end,
Bread taste sour.

Added: 2 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 13 Feb 2012 2:26 AM | Viewed: 3963 times

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