A First Confession

William Butler YeatsWilliam Butler Yeats

1 min read · 12.4K reads

I admit the briar
Entangled in my hair
Did not injure me;
My blenching and trembling,
Nothing but dissembling,
Nothing but coquetry.I long for truth, and yet
I cannot stay from that
My better self disowns,
For a man's attention
Brings such satisfaction
To the craving in my bones.Brightness that I pull back
From the Zodiac,
Why those questioning eyes
That are fixed upon me?
What can they do but shun me
If empty night replies?
William Butler Yeats
About the poet

William Butler Yeats

View profile & all 59 Poems / Stories

More Poetry & Stories You May Like