143. A DREAM OF DEATH
Reading edition
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, And, wondering, planted by her solitude A cypress and a yew: I came, and wrote upon a cross of wood, Man had no more to do: She was more beautiful than thy first love, This lady by the trees: And gazed upon the mournful stars above, And heard the mournful breeze.
W. B. Yeats.
144. A DREAM Of A BLESSED SPIRIT
All the heavy days are over; Leave the body's coloured pride Underneath the grass and clover, With the feet laid side by side.
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One with her are mirth and duty; Bear the gold embroidered dress, For she needs not her sad beauty, To the scented oaken press.
Hers the kiss of Mother Mary, The long hair is on her face; Still she goes with footsteps wary, Full of earth's old timid grace:
With white feet of angels seven Her white feet go glimmering; And above the deep of heaven, Flame on flame and wing on wing.
W. B. Yeats.