An Acre of Grass

by William Butler Yeats


Picture and book remain,
An acre of green grass
For air and exercize,
Now strength and body goes;
Midnight, an old house
Where nothing stirs but a mouse.
My temptation is quiet.
Here at life's end
Neither loose imagination,
Nor the mill of the mind
Consuming its rag and bone
Can make the truth known.

Grant me an old man's frenzy,
Myself must I remake
Till I am Timon and Lear
Or that William Blake
Who beat upon the wall
Till Truth obeyed his call;

A mind Michael Angelo knew
That can pierce the clouds,
Or inspired by frenzy
Shake the dead in their shrouds;
Forgotten else by mankind,
An old man's eagle mind.


W.B.Yeats [1865-1939], Irish poet and playright of international reputation. He was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923.

Published under the provision of U.S. Code, Title 17, section 107.

Published March 11, 2002
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