ONE that is ever kind said yesterday

"Your well-beloved's hair has threads of grey

And little shadows come about her eyes

Time can but make it easier to be wise

Though now it seems impossible, and so

All that you need is patience

Heart cries, "No

I have not a crumb of comfort, not a grain

Time can but make her beauty over again

Because of that great nobleness of hers

The fire that stirs about her, when she stirs

Burns but more clearly.O she had not these ways

When all the wild Summer was in her gaze

Heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head

You'd know the folly of being comforted

POET: WILLIAM BUTTLER YEATES