W. B. Yeats,
Seven Poems and a Fragment
“ No living man can drink from the whole wine.I have mummy truths to tellWhereat the living mock,Though not for sober ear,For maybe all that hearShould laugh and weep an hour upon the clock.Such thought—such thought have I that hold it tightTill meditation master all its parts,Nothing can stay my glanceUntil that glance run in the world’s despiteTo where the damned have howled away their hearts,And where the blessed dance;Such thought, that in it boundI need no other thingWound in mind’s wandering,As mummies in the mummy-cloth are wound. ”
