TO WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS, a poem

TELL us of beauty! Touch thy silver lyre
     And bid thy Muse unfold her shining wings!
     Tell us of joy—of those unaging things
Which wither not, nor are consumed by fire,
Things unto which the souls of all aspire!
     Sing us the mystic song thine Erin sings,
     Her poignant dreams, her weird imaginings,
With magic of thy "Land of Heart's Desire!"

Let others hate!—from lips not thine be hurled
Reproaches; since all hate at last must prove
     Abortive, though it triumph for a while.
The gospels that indeed have won the world
Laid their foundations in the strength of love.
     Sing thou, a lover, of thy wave-washed Isle!

"To William Butler Yeats" by Florence Earle Coates. Published in The Reader (January 1904), Mine and Thine (1904) and Poems (1916) Volume I.