BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS<\/p>\n
The fascination of what’s difficult
\nHas dried the sap out of my veins, and rent
\nSpontaneous joy and natural content
\nOut of my heart. There’s something ails our colt
\nThat must, as if it had not holy blood
\nNor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud,
\nShiver under the lash, strain, sweat and jolt
\nAs though it dragged road metal. My curse on plays
\nThat have to be set up in fifty ways,
\nOn the day’s war with every knave and dolt,
\nTheatre business, management of men.
\nI swear before the dawn comes round again
\nI’ll find the stable and pull out the bolt.<\/p>\n\n
<\/p>\n
BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS The fascination of what’s difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart. There’s something ails our colt That must, as if it had not holy blood Nor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud, Shiver under the lash, strain, … Continue reading The fascination of what’s being difficult<\/span>