MAY God be praised for woman <br />That gives up all her mind, <br />A man may find in no man <br />A friendship of her kind <br />That covers all he has brought <br />As with her flesh and bone, <br />Nor quarrels with a thought <br />Because it is not her own. <br />Though pedantry denies, <br />It's plain the Bible means <br />That Solomon grew wise <br />While talking with his queens. <br />Yet never could, although <br />They say he counted grass, <br />Count all the praises due <br />When Sheba was his lass, <br />When she the iron wrought, or <br />When from the smithy fire <br />It shuddered in the water: <br />Harshness of their desire <br />That made them stretch and yawn, <br />pleasure that comes with sleep, <br />Shudder that made them one. <br />What else He give or keep <br />God grant me -- no, not here, <br />For I am not so bold <br />To hope a thing so dear <br />Now I am growing old, <br />But when, if the tale's true, <br />The Pestle of the moon <br />That pounds up all anew <br />Brings me to birth again -- <br />To find what once I had <br />And know what once I have known, <br />Until I am driven mad, <br />Sleep driven from my bed. <br />By tenderness and care. <br />pity, an aching head, <br />Gnashing of teeth, despair; <br />And all because of some one <br />perverse creature of chance, <br />And live like Solomon <br />That Sheba led a dance.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-woman/
