The lot of love is chosen.  I learnt that much
Struggling for an image on the track
Of the whirling Zodiac.
Scarce did he my body touch,
Scarce sank he from the west
Or found a subtetranean rest
On the maternal midnight of my breast
Before I had marked him on his northern way,
And seemed to stand although in bed I lay.
I struggled with the horror of daybreak,
I chose it for my lot! If questioned on
My utmost pleasure with a man
By some new-married bride, I take
That stillness for a theme
Where his heart my heart did seem
And both adrift on the miraculous stream
Where -- wrote a learned astrologer --
The Zodiac is changed into a sphere.

Added: on January 31st, 2007 at 5:48 PM | Viewed: 1411 times | Comments (1)

Poet: William Butler Yeats
Poem: Chosen
Volume: The Winding Stair and Other Poems
Year: Published/Written in 1933

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