The Wheel

Album cover art for "The Wheel" by William Butler Yeats

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

The Wheel

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Lyrics

Through winter−time we call on spring, And through the spring on summer call, And when abounding hedges ring Declare that winter's best of all; And after that there's nothing good Because the spring−time has not come − Nor know that what disturbs our blood Is but its longing for the tomb.

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Credits

Writers
  • William Butler Yeats