Explore "Where my Books Go" by W.B. Yeats on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
All the words that I gather, / And all the words that I write, / Must spread out their wings untiring, / And never rest in their flight, / Till they come where your sad, sad heart is, / And sing to you in the night, / Beyond where the waters are moving, / Storm darkened or starry bright.