Explore "The Phases of the Moon" by W.B. Yeats on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
_An old man cocked his ear upon a bridge; / He and his friend, their faces to the South, / Had trod the uneven road. Their boots were soiled, / Their Connemara cloth worn out of shape; / They had kept a steady pace as though their beds, / Despite a dwindling and late risen moon, / Were distant. An old man cocked his ear._
AHERNE