Yeats and I danced. I stepped on his toes. Yeats and me--we're nothing if not long-suffering. Call headquarters for details.
To bring the balloon of the mind into a shed at high wind.
Come near, come near, come near - Ah, leave me still
A little space for the rose-breath to fill!
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
My dear, my dear, oh dear,
It was an accident.