All the words that I utter,
And all the words that I write,
Must spread out their wings untiring,
And never rest in their flight,
Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,
And sing to you in the night,
Beyond where the waters are moving,
Storm-darken’d or starry bright.
More verses by William Butler Yeats
- A Man Young And Old: Iv. The Death Of The Hare
- All Things Can Tempt Me
- The Choice
- Crazy Jane Talks With The Bishop
- Death