O CURLEW, cry no more in the air,
Or only to the water in the West;
Because your crying brings to my mind
passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair
That was shaken out over my breast:
There is enough evil in the crying of wind.
More verses by William Butler Yeats
- Paudeen
- To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time
- His Bargain
- He Hears The Cry Of The Sedge
- The Double Vision Of Michael Robartes