His Memories

Album cover art for "His Memories" by William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats - Non-Music, Lyric Poem (Literature)

His Memories

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Lyrics

We should be hidden from their eyes, Being but holy shows And bodies broken like a thorn Whereon the bleak north blows, To think of buried Hector And that none living knows. The women take so little stock In what I do or say They'd sooner leave their cosseting To hear a jackass bray; My arms are like the twisted thorn And yet there beauty lay; The first of all the tribe lay there And did such pleasure take - She who had brought great Hector down And put all Troy to wreck - That she cried into this ear, 'Strike me if I shriek.'

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Credits

Writers
  • William Butler Yeats