I    t close of day

        ing h vivid faces

        From ter or desk among grey

        Eigury houses.

        I he head

        Or polite meaningless words,

        Or have lingered awhile and said

        Polite meaningless words,

        And t before I had done

        Of a mog tale ibe

        to please a panion

        Around t the club,

        Beiain t they and I

        But lived wley is worn:

        All cterly:

        A terrible beauty is born.

        t

        In ignorant good-will,

        s in argument

        Until her voice grew shrill.

        voice more s than hers

        iful,

        So harriers?

        t a school

        And rode our winged horse;

        ther his helper and friend

        as ing into his force;

        he end,

        So sensitive ure seemed,

        S and s .

        ther man I had dreamed

        A drunken, vainglorious lout.

        bitter wrong

        to some w,

        Yet I number he song;

        oo,

        In the casual edy;

        oo, urn,

        transformed utterly:

        A terrible beauty is born.

        s h one purpose alone

        ter seem

        Eo a stone

        to trouble tream.

        t es from the road.

        t range

        From cloud to tumbling cloud,

        Minute by mihey ge;

        A sream

        Ce by minute;

        A he brim,

        And a ;

        the long-legged moor-hens dive,

        And o moor-cocks call;

        Minute by mihey live:

        tones in t of all.

        too long a sacrifice

        make a stone of t.

        O w suffice?

        t is , our part

        to murmur name upon name,

        As a mother names her child

        last has e

        On limbs t had run wild.

        is it but nightfall?

        No, no, not nig death;

        as it needless deater all?

        Fland may keep faith

        For all t is done and said.

        e knoheir dream; enough

        to knohey dreamed and are dead;

        And w if excess of love

        Beill they died?

        I e it out in a verse -

        Maagh and MacBride

        And olly and Pearse

        o be,

        herever green is worn,

        Are cterly:

        A terrible beauty is born.
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