The Valley Of The Black Pig
Read 'The Valley Of The Black Pig' by 'William Butler Yeats' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.
The dews drop slowly and dreams gather: unknown spears
Suddenly hurtle before my dream-awakened eyes,
And then the clash of fallen horsemen and the cries
Of unknown perishing armies beat about my ears.
We who still labour by the cromlech on the shore,
The grey caim on the hill, when day sinks drowned in dew,
Being weary of the world's empires, bow down to you.
Master of the still stars and of the flaming door.
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.