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The Tower
is loose,

    Or t of the fabulous horn,

    Or t of the sudden shower

    reams are dry,

    Or t of the hour

    fix his eye

    Upon a fading gleam,

    Float out upon a long

    Last reactering stream

    And t song.

    And I declare my faith:

    I mock plotinus t

    And cry in platos teeth,

    Deat

    till man made up the whole,

    Made lock, stock and barrel

    Out of ter soul,

    Aye, sun and moon and star, all,

    And furto t

    t, being dead, we rise,

    Dream and so create

    translunar paradise.

    I have prepared my peace

    italian things

    And tones of Greece,

    Poets imaginings

    And memories of love,

    Memories of the words of women,

    All things whereof

    Man makes a superhuman,

    Mirror-resembling dream.

    As at there

    tter and scream,

    And drop twigs layer upon layer.

    ed up,

    t

    On top,

    And so warm .

    I leave both and pride

    to young upstanding men

    Climbing tain-side,

    t under bursting dawn

    they may drop a fly;

    Being of t metal made

    till it was broken by

    tary trade.

    Now shall I make my soul,

    Compelling it to study

    In a learned school

    till the wreck of body,

    Slow decay of blood,

    testy delirium

    Or dull decrepitude,

    Or w worse evil come -

    th

    Of every brilliant eye

    t made a c
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首页 >Selected Poems of W. B. Yeats简介 >Selected Poems of W. B. Yeats目录 > The Tower