A STRANGE thing surely that my Heart, when love had come unsought
Upon the Norman upland or in that poplar shade,
Should find no burden but itself and yet should be worn out.
It could not bear that burden and therefore it went mad.
More verses by William Butler Yeats
- Hound Voice
- The Hawk
- The Ballad Of Father O'Hart
- The Lover Pleads With His Friend For Old Friends
- Colonel Martin