The poem
I thought of your beauty, and this arrow, Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow. There's no man may look upon her, no man, As when newly grown to be a woman, Tall and noble but with face and bosom Delicate in colour as apple blossom. This beauty's kinder, yet for a reason I could weep that the old is out of season.
I came across the first two lines of this poem while reading another book on beauty; how we are affected by beauty of a person, place or thing or concept. So I clicked on to find the whole poem. It is beautiful and has affected me. I feel this way about a young man when I think about him and especailly when I see him. His face is beautiful to me and his spirit. He left the studio so I do not see him now. My friend…
Read the whole commentI came across the first two lines of this poem while reading another book on beauty; how we are affected by beauty of a person, place or thing or concept.
So I clicked on to find the whole poem.
It is beautiful and has affected me.
I feel this way about a young man when I think about him and especailly when I see him. His face is beautiful to me and his spirit. He left the studio so I do not see him now. My friend says she thinks he is ugly and that is unbelievable to me.
I want to be 25 years younger when I think of him.
The last two lines of the poem truly speak to me.
The first two lines describe how desire to see this beauty again does get inside you, like into your marrow.
I don't know if I have ever read Yeats( maybe in school) long ago, but now I am interested in reading more.
Thank you.