Read "The Arrow" by W.B. Yeats online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
I thought of your beauty and this arrow / Made out of a wild thought is in my marrow.
There's no man may look upon her, no man, / As when newly grown to be a woman, / Blossom pale, she pulled down the pale blossom / At the moth hour and hid it in her bosom.
This beauty's kinder yet for a reason / I could weep that the old is out of season.