PICTURE and book remain,
An acre of
green grass
For air and
exercise,
Now
strength of body goes;
Midnight,
an old house
Where
nothing stirs but a mouse.
My
temptation is quiet.
Here at
life's end
Neither
loose imagination,
Nor the
mill of the mind
Consuming
its rag and bone,
Can make
the truth known.
Grant me an
old man's frenzy,
Myself must
I remake
Till I am
Timon and Lear
Or that
William Blake
Who beat
upon the wall
Till Truth
obeyed his call;
A mind
Michael Angelo knew
That can
pierce the clouds,
Or inspired
by frenzy
Shake the
dead in their shrouds;
Forgotten
else by mankind,
An old
man's eagle mind.
William Butler Yeats
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