O WHAT to me the little room <br />That was brimmed up with prayer and rest; <br />He bade me out into the gloom, <br />And my breast lies upon his breast. <br />O what to me my mother's care, <br />The house where I was safe and warm; <br />The shadowy blossom of my hair <br />Will hide us from the bitter storm. <br />O hiding hair and dewy eyes, <br />I am no more with life and death, <br />My heart upon his warm heart lies, <br />My breath is mixed into his breath.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-heart-of-the-woman/
