Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.
William Butler YeatsIrish poets, learn your trade, sing whatever is well made, scorn the sort now growing up all out of shape from toe to top.
William Butler YeatsI call on those that call me son, Grandson, or great-grandson, On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts, To judge what I have done. Have I, that put it into words, Spoilt what old loins have sent?
William Butler Yeats