Verse > W.B. Yeats > The Wild Swans at Coole

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939).  The Wild Swans at Coole.  1919.

27. Presences

THIS night has been so strange that it seemed 
As if the hair stood up on my head. 
From going-down of the sun I have dreamed 
That women laughing, or timid or wild, 
In rustle of lace or silken stuff,         5
Climbed up my creaking stair. They had read 
All I had rhymed of that monstrous thing 
Returned and yet unrequited love. 
They stood in the door and stood between 
My great wood lectern and the fire  10
Till I could hear their hearts beating: 
One is a harlot, and one a child 
That never looked upon man with desire, 
And one it may be a queen. 



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