Get Your Premium Membership

Paudeen

 Indignant at the fumbling wits, the obscure spite
Of our old paudeen in his shop, I stumbled blind
Among the stones and thorn-trees, under morning light;
Until a curlew cried and in the luminous wind
A curlew answered; and suddenly thereupon I thought
That on the lonely height where all are in God's eye,
There cannot be, confusion of our sound forgot,
A single soul that lacks a sweet crystalline cry.

Poem by William Butler Yeats
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - PaudeenEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...



More Poems by William Butler Yeats

Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on Paudeen

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Paudeen here.

Commenting turned off, sorry.