Читать книгу The Wind Among the Reeds - Yeats William Butler, William Butler Yeats - Страница 18

I bring you with reverent hands

The books of my numberless dreams;

White woman that passion has worn

As the tide wears the dove-gray sands,

And with heart more old than the horn

That is brimmed from the pale fire of time:

White woman with numberless dreams

I bring you my passionate rhyme.