I AM tired of cursing the Bishop, <br />(Said Crazy Jane) <br />Nine books or nine hats <br />Would not make him a man. <br />I have found something worse <br />To meditate on. <br />A King had some beautiful cousins. <br />But where are they gone? <br />Battered to death in a cellar, <br />And he stuck to his throne. <br />Last night I lay on the mountain. <br />(Said Crazy Jane) <br />There in a two-horsed carriage <br />That on two wheels ran <br />Great-bladdered Emer sat. <br />Her violent man <br />Cuchulain sat at her side; <br />Thereupon' <br />Propped upon my two knees, <br />I kissed a stone <br />I lay stretched out in the dirt <br />And I cried tears down.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crazy-jane-on-the-mountain/
