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 O! '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.

William Butler Yeats

For F.