NOW all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
From any brazen throat,
For how can you compete,
Being honour bred, with one
Who, were it proved he lies,
Were neither shamed in his own
Nor in his neighbours' eyes?
Bred to a harder thing
Than Triumph, turn away
And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.
More verses by William Butler Yeats
- The Harp Of Aengus
- The Dancer At Cruachan And Cro-Patrick
- Introductory Lines (The Shadowy Waters)
- The Winding Stair And Other Poems
- Slim Adolescence That A Nymph Has Stripped,