A Song From The Player Queen
My mother dandled me and sang,
'How young it is, how young!'
And made a golden cradle
That on a willow swung.
'He went away,' my mother sang,
'When I was brought to bed,'
And all the while her needle pulled
The gold and silver thread.
She pulled the thread and bit the thread
And made a golden gown,
And wept because she had dreamt that I
Was born to wear a crown.
'When she was got,' my mother sang,
I heard a sea-mew cry,
And saw a flake of the yellow foam
That dropped upon my thigh.
'
How therefore could she help but braid
The gold into my hair,
And dream that I should carry
The golden top of care?
Poem by
William Butler Yeats
Biography |
Poems
| Best Poems | Short Poems
| Quotes
|
Email Poem |
More Poems by William Butler Yeats
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on A Song From The Player Queen
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem A Song From The Player Queen here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.