O SWEET everlasting Voices, be still;
Go to the guards of the heavenly fold
And bid them wander obeying your will,
Flame under flame, till Time be no more;
Have you not heard that our hearts are old,
That you call in birds, in wind on the hill,
In shaken boughs, in tide on the shore?
O sweet everlasting Voices, be still.
More verses by William Butler Yeats
- The Dedication To A Book Of Stories Selected From The Irish Novelists
- Her Praise
- The Pity Of Love
- The Heart Of The Woman
- The Lover Mourns For The Loss Of Love