IF any man drew near <br />When I was young, <br />I thought, 'He holds her dear,' <br />And shook with hate and fear. <br />But O! 'twas bitter wrong <br />If he could pass her by <br />With an indifferent eye. <br />Whereon I wrote and wrought, <br />And now, being grey, <br />I dream that I have brought <br />To such a pitch my thought <br />That coming time can say, <br />'He shadowed in a glass <br />What thing her body was.' <br />For she had fiery blood <br />When I was young, <br />And trod so sweetly proud <br />As 'twere upon a cloud, <br />A woman Homer sung, <br />That life and letters seem <br />But an heroic dream.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-woman-homer-sung/
