This great purple butterfly,
In the prison of my hands,
Has a learning in his eye
Not a poor fool understands.
Once he lived a schoolmaster
With a stark, denying look;
A string of scholars went in fear
Of his great birch and his great book.
Like the clangour of a bell,
Sweet and harsh, harsh and sweet.
That is how he learnt so well
To take the roses for his meat.
Another Song Of A Fool
William Butler Yeats
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Poem topics: butterfly, fear, poor, purple, prison, fool, book, sweet, great, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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