Like the moon her kindness is,
If kindness I may call
What has no comprehension in't,
But is the same for all
As though my sorrow were a scene
Upon a painted wall.
So like a bit of stone I lie
Under a broken tree.
I could recover if I shrieked
My heart's agony
To passing bird, but I am dumb
From human dignity.
A Man Young And Old:- Human Dignity
William Butler Yeats
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Poem topics: heart, moon, sorrow, tree, bird, human, wall, broken, scene, stone, kindness, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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