NOW as at all times I can see in the mind's eye, <br />In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones <br />Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky <br />With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones, <br />And all their helms of Silver hovering side by side, <br />And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more, <br />Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied, <br />The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-magi/
