Beautiful lofty things: O'Leary's noble head; My father upon the Abbey stage, before him a raging crowd: "This Land of Saints,' and then as the applause died out, "Of plaster Saints'; his beautiful mischievous head thrown back. Standish O'Grady supporting himself between the tables Speaking to a drunken audience high nonsensical words; Augusta Gregory seated at her great ormolu table, Her eightieth winter approaching: "Yesterday he threatened my life. I told him that nightly from six to seven I sat at this table, The blinds drawn up'; Maud Gonne at Howth station waiting a train, Pallas Athene in that straight back and arrogant head: All the Olympians; a thing never known again.
Return to the William Butler Yeats Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; Before The World Was Made