OUT-WORN heart, in a time out-worn, <br />Come clear of the nets of wrong and right; <br />Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight, <br />Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn. <br />Your mother Eire is aways young, <br />Dew ever shining and twilight grey; <br />Though hope fall from you and love decay, <br />Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue. <br />Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill: <br />For there the mystical brotherhood <br />Of sun and moon and hollow and wood <br />And river and stream work out their will; <br />And God stands winding His lonely horn, <br />And time and the world are ever in flight; <br />And love is less kind than the grey twilight, <br />And hope is less dear than the dew of the morn.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/into-the-twilight/
