Read "Hanrahan Speaks to the Lovers of his Songs in Coming Days" by W.B. Yeats online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
O, colleens, kneeling by your altar rails long hence, / When songs I wove for my beloved hide the prayer, / And smoke from this dead heart drifts through the violet air / And covers away the smoke of myrrh and frankincense; / Bend down and pray for the great sin I wove in song, / Till Maurya of the wounded heart cry a sweet cry, / And call to my beloved and me: 'No longer fly / 'Amid the hovering, piteous, penitential throng. '