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The Ragged Wood
by William Butler Yeats

O, hurry, where by water, among the trees,
The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh,
When they have looked upon their images 
Would none had ever loved but you and I!

Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed
Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky,
When the sun looked out of his golden hood? 
O, that none ever loved but you and I!

O hurry to the ragged wood, for there
I will drive all those lovers out and cry 
O, my share of the world, O, yellow hair!
No one has ever loved but you and I.
        
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Poem ID: 364   Poem Posted: 11/21/1997
Viewed: 239056  Voted On: 1253  E-mailed: 456  Commented On: 11
 
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