Chorus. Come praise Colonus' horses, and come praise <br />The wine-dark of the wood's intricacies, <br />The nightingale that deafens daylight there, <br />If daylight ever visit where, <br />Unvisited by tempest or by sun, <br />Immortal ladies tread the ground <br />Dizzy with harmonious sound, <br />Semele's lad a gay companion. <br />And yonder in the gymnasts' garden thrives <br />The self-sown, self-begotten shape that gives <br />Athenian intellect its mastery, <br />Even the grey-leaved olive-tree <br />Miracle-bred out of the living stone; <br />Nor accident of peace nor war <br />Shall wither that old marvel, for <br />The great grey-eyed Athene stareS thereon. <br />Who comes into this countty, and has come <br />Where golden crocus and narcissus bloom, <br />Where the Great Mother, mourning for her daughter <br />And beauty-drunken by the water <br />Glittering among grey-leaved olive-trees, <br />Has plucked a flower and sung her loss; <br />Who finds abounding Cephisus <br />Has found the loveliest spectacle there is. <br />because this country has a pious mind <br />And so remembers that when all mankind <br />But trod the road, or splashed about the shore, <br />Poseidon gave it bit and oar, <br />Every Colonus lad or lass discourses <br />Of that oar and of that bit; <br />Summer and winter, day and night, <br />Of horses and horses of the sea, white horsffes.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/colonus-praise/
