Kanva on Himself by W.B. Yeats — Read

Now wherefore hast thou tears innumerous?

Hast thou not known all sorrow and delight / Wandering of yore in forests rumorous, / Beneath the flaming eyeballs of the night, / And as a slave been wakeful in the halls / Of Rajas and Mahrajas beyond number?

Hast thou not ruled among the gilded walls?

Hast thou not known a Raja's dreamless slumber?

Hast thou not sat of yore upon the knees / Of myriads of beloveds, and on thine / Have not a myriad swayed below strange trees / In other lives? Hast thou not quaffed old wine / By tables that were fallen into dust / Ere yonder palm commenced his thousand years?

Is not thy body but the garnered rust / Of ancient passions and of ancient fears?

Then wherefore fear the usury of Time, / Or Death that cometh with the next life-key?

Nay, rise and flatter her with golden rhyme, / For as things were so shall things ever be.