Read "Peace" by W.B. Yeats online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Ah, that Time could touch a form / That could show what Homer's age / Bred to be a hero's wage. / "Were not all her life but storm, / Would not painters paint a form / Of such noble lines" I said. / "Such a delicate high head, / So much sternness and such charm, / Till they had changed us to like strength? " / Ah, but peace that comes at length, / Came when Time had touched her form.