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A Dream Of Death
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

A Dream Of Death

Poem By William Butler Yeats

I DREAMED that one had died in a strange place
Near no accustomed hand,
And they had nailed the boards above her face,
The peasants of that land,
Wondering to lay her in that solitude,
And raised above her mound
A cross they had made out of two bits of wood,
And planted cypress round;
And left her to the indifferent stars above
Until I carved these words:
i{She was more beautiful than thy first love,}
i{But now lies under boards.}

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Comments (23)

I'm so sorry you are dead before I was born and forgive my audacity for leaving my own words here. I love how the stars were indifferent- aren't they always? - but we feel they belong to us somehow, trapped down here in the dirt as we are; don't even prisoners see the stars and feel a little hope that even that comfort is not completely denied them?
Death never leaves anyone whether one is beautiful or not! Indeed this tribute is more lasting than any other thing one can say. This reveals W B Yeats' philosophic depth in this poem!
On a similar note: Trump claims that he threw Epstein out of Mar-Lardo years ago. I suppose that Trump felt threatened by his competition for the young ones! http: //www.4cashpath.com/
" She was more beautiful thy first love But now lies under boards" What a great tribute?
The second line is compact in meaning. A good poem this is though I think I fail to get all out of it. But it gave me a good reading.


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