I TURN round
Like a dumb beast in a show.
Neither know what I am
Nor where I go,
My language beaten
Into one name;
I am in love
And that is my shame.
What hurts the soul
My soul adores,
No better than a beast
Upon all fours.
More verses by William Butler Yeats
- Owen Aherne And His Dancers
- Hound Voice
- The Hawk
- The Ballad Of Father O'Hart
- The Lover Pleads With His Friend For Old Friends