Classic Poetry


The Lamentation Of The Old Pensioner

by William Butler Yeats


ALTHOUGH I shelter from the rain
Under a broken tree,
My chair was nearest to the fire
In every company
That talked of love or politics,
Ere Time transfigured me.
Though lads are making pikes again
For some conspiracy,
And crazy rascals rage their fill
At human tyranny,
My contemplations are of Time
That has transfigured me.
There's not a woman turns her face
Upon a broken tree,
And yet the beauties that I loved
Are in my memory;
I spit into the face of Time
That has transfigured me.





Unsatisfied? Search for more:


Other Cool Sites:

Hot Arts & Stage News

Lyrics Catalogue

Sound Tracks Guide

Guide to Serials and Shows

English Subtitles For DivX Movies

Hundreds of Cooking Recipes

Over 5000 Cocktails Recipes

Cool Online Encyclopedia

Cellulars Descriptions and Reviews

Algorithms Dictionary

Funny Jokes and Anecdotes.

Usenet Newsgroups Reader