An Appointment

BEING out of heart with government
I took a broken root to fling
Where the proud, wayward squirrel went,
Taking delight that he could spring;
And he, with that low whinnying sound
That is like laughter, sprang again
And so to the other tree at a bound.
Nor the tame will, nor timid brain,
Nor heavy knitting of the brow
Bred that fierce tooth and cleanly limb
And threw him up to laugh on the bough;
No govermnent appointed him.

by William Butler Yeats

Comments (3)

Add a comment.so touching
Sweet and crafty, soft and sly. How wonderful are those words? ! ? ! ?
The opression of the day is felt so acutely here! Her words themselves show what was expected, and what was thought, of intelligent women of her day. Sad, though, that things aren't really that much different now. The point is made with sense of one being contentedly depressed, a phrase that I enjoy to use.