THE GREEN HELMET AND OTHER POEMS THE GREEN HELMET AND OTHER POEMS BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS NEW YORK THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. 1912 _All rights reserved_ Copyright, 1911, by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS Copyright, 1912, by THE MACMILLAN CO. _Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1912_ THE GREEN HELMET AND OTHER POEMS HIS DREAM I swayed upon the gaudy stern The butt end of a steering oar, And everywhere that I could turn Men ran upon the shore. And though I would have hushed the crowd There was no mother's son but said, "What is the figure in a shroud Upon a gaudy bed?" And fishes bubbling to the brim Cried out upon that thing beneath, It had such dignity of limb, By the sweet name of Death. Though I'd my finger on my lip, What could I but take up the song? And fish and crowd and gaudy ship Cried out the whole night long, Crying amid the glittering sea, Naming it with ecstatic breath, Because it had such dignity By the sweet name of Death. A WOMAN HOMER SUNG If any man drew near When I was young, I thought, "He holds her dear," And shook with hate and fear. But oh, 'twas bitter wrong If he could pass her by With an indifferent eye. Whereon I wrote and wrought, And now, being gray, I dream that I have brought To such a pitch my thought That coming time can say, "He shadowed in a glass What thing her body was." For she had fiery blood When I was young, And trod so sweetly proud As 'twere upon a cloud, A woman Homer sung, That life and letters seem But an heroic dream. THAT THE NIGHT COME She lived in storm and strife. Her soul had such desire For what proud death may bring That it could not endure The common good of life, But lived as 'twere a king That packed his marriage day With banneret and pennon, Trumpet and kettledrum, And the outrageous cannon, To bundle Time away That the night come. THE CONSOLATION I had this thought awhile ago, "My darling cannot understand What I have done, or what would do In this blind bitter land." And I grew weary of the sun Until my thoughts cleared up again, Remembering that the best I have done Was done to make it plain; That every year I have cried, "At length My darling understands it all, Because I have come into my strength, And words obey my call." That had she done so who can say What would have shaken from the sieve? I might have thrown poor words away And been content to live. FRIENDS