He Tells Of The Perfect Beauty
O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes, The poets labouring all their days To build a perfect beauty in rhyme Are overthrown by a woman's gaze And by the unlabouring brood of the skies: And therefore my heart will bow, when dew Is dropping sleep, until God burn time, Before the unlabouring stars and you.
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"O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,..."
William Butler Yeats's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "He Tells Of The Perfect Beauty"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...