Back to Index

To a Young Girl

by W. B. Yeats, 1919

My dear, my dear, I know
More than another
What makes your heart beat so;
Not even your own mother
Can know it as I know,
Who broke my heart for her
When the wild thought,
That she denies
And has forgot,
Set all her blood astir
And glittered in her eyes.

Published in The Wild Swans at Coole
Tags:

Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.