W. B. Yeats

(Song from an Unfinished Play)
My mother dandled me and sang,
'How young it is, how young!'
And made a golden cradle

(Song from an Unfinished Play)
My mother dandled me and sang,
'How young it is, how young!'
And made a golden cradle

The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.

I whispered, "I am too young,"
And then, "I am old enough";
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate
Those that I guard I do not love;