`O cruel Death, give three things back,' <br />Sang a bone upon the shore; <br />`A child found all a child can lack, <br />Whether of pleasure or of rest, <br />Upon the abundance of my breast': <br />A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind. <br /> <br />`Three dear things that women know,' <br />Sang a bhone upon the shore; <br />`A man if I but held him so <br />When my body was alive <br />Found all the pleasure that life gave': <br />A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind. <br /> <br />`The third thing that I think of yet,' <br />Sang a bone upon the shore, <br />`Is that morning when I met <br />Face to face my rightful man <br />And did after stretch and yawn': <br />A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/three-things/
