THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
-- Those dying generations -- at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
...
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My favourite Yeat’s poem. It is joy to anyone thinking of old age. “Never had I more excited, passionate, fantastical imagination......” and the wide ranging poem then immerses the reader in his imaginative world. His unrequited love of Maud Gonne is real poetry.
My favourite Yeat’s poem. It is joy to anyone thinking of old age. “Never had I more excited, passionate, fantastical imagination......” and the wide ranging poem then immerses the reader in his imaginative world. His unrequited love of Maud Gonne is real poetry.