Players and painted stage took all my love, And not those things that they were emblems of.
William Butler YeatsI kiss you and kiss you, With arms around my own, Ah, how shall I miss you, When, dear, you have grown.
William Butler YeatsMuch did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.
William Butler YeatsHow can the arts overcome the slow dying of men's hearts that we call progress ?
William Butler Yeats