Verse > W.B. Yeats > The Wild Swans at Coole
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W.B. Yeats (1865–1939).  The Wild Swans at Coole.  1919.

27. Presences


THIS night has been so strange that it seemed 
As if the hair stood up on my head. 
From going-down of the sun I have dreamed 
That women laughing, or timid or wild, 
In rustle of lace or silken stuff,         5
Climbed up my creaking stair. They had read 
All I had rhymed of that monstrous thing 
Returned and yet unrequited love. 
They stood in the door and stood between 
My great wood lectern and the fire  10
Till I could hear their hearts beating: 
One is a harlot, and one a child 
That never looked upon man with desire, 
And one it may be a queen. 


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