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A Statesmans Holiday

 I lived among great houses,
Riches drove out rank,
Base drove out the better blood,
And mind and body shrank.
No Oscar ruled the table, But I'd a troop of friends That knowing better talk had gone Talked of odds and ends.
Some knew what ailed the world But never said a thing, So I have picked a better trade And night and morning sing: Tall dames go walking in grass-green Avalon.
Am I a great Lord Chancellor That slept upon the Sack? Commanding officer that tore The khaki from his back? Or am I de Valera, Or the King of Greece, Or the man that made the motors? Ach, call me what you please! Here's a Montenegrin lute, And its old sole string Makes me sweet music And I delight to sing: Tall dames go walking in grass-green Avalon.
With boys and girls about him.
With any sort of clothes, With a hat out of fashion, With Old patched shoes, With a ragged bandit cloak, With an eye like a hawk, With a stiff straight back, With a strutting turkey walk.
With a bag full of pennies, With a monkey on a chain, With a great cock's feather, With an old foul tune.
Tall dames go walking in grass-green Avalon.

Poem by William Butler Yeats
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