He. Dear, I must be gone
While night Shuts the eyes
Of the household spies;
That song announces dawn.

She. No, night's bird and love's
Bids all true lovers rest,
While his loud song reproves
The murderous stealth of day.

He. Daylight already flies
From mountain crest to crest

She. That light is from the moon.

He. That bird...

She. Let him sing on,
I offer to love's play
My dark declivities.

by William Butler Yeats

Comments (18)

Pour me another glass of your words, like fine delicious wine! !
i shall give up drinking to drink in your perfume and to live for you and love you and kiss you with intense desire and passion........ tony
One of the best poems I've read so far. Keep it up!
A lovely poem Uriah. Very clever with an apt title as well.
Nice work Uriah, the call of a siren that prevents men from drowning.
See More