Love
The Arrow
From In the Seven Woods (1903)
Love
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,
Blossom pale, she pulled down the pale blossom
At the moth hour and hid it in her bosom.
This beauty's kinder yet for a reason
I could weep that the old is out of season.
✦ ✦ ✦
Codex Note
Eight lines: the poet thinks of the beloved's beauty and an arrow of wild thought lodges in his marrow.
Cite this poem
MLA
Yeats, W. B. “The Arrow.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/yeats/21/.
Chicago
Yeats, W. B. “The Arrow.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/yeats/21/.
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