This great purple butterfly,
In the prison of my hands,
Has a learning in his eye
Not a poor fool understands.

Once he lived a schoolmaster
With a stark, denying look;
A string of scholars went in fear
Of his great birch and his great book.

Like the clangour of a bell,
Sweet and harsh, harsh and sweet.
That is how he learnt so well
To take the roses for his meat.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 1320 times | Comments (0)

Poet: William Butler Yeats
Poem: Another Song Of A Fool
Volume: The Wild Swans at Coole
Year: Published/Written in 1919
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