I BRING you with reverent hands <br />The books of my numberless dreams, <br />White woman that passion has worn <br />As the tide wears the dove-grey sands, <br />And with heart more old than the horn <br />That is brimmed from the pale fire of time: <br />White woman with numberless dreams, <br />I bring you my passionate rhyme.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-poet-to-his-beloved/
