August 7, 2020

  
To a Friend Whose Work Has Come to Nothing (W.B. Yeats) 

Now all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
From any brazen throat,
For how can you compete,
Being honor bred, with one
Who were it proved he lies
Were neither shamed in his own
Nor in his neighbors' eyes;
Bred to a harder thing
Than Triumph, turn away
And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.
 







 
 

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yaversenovel verse novels for children and teens are in vogue, it would seem — 15 years ago i would only have been able to name a small handful (karen hesse,

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zooniverse Spare time (even in occasional dollops) might be channelled towards helping the Boston Public Library transcribe their recently digitised