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William Butler Yeats - Three Things
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`O cruel Death, give three things back,`
Sang a bone upon the shore;
`A child found all a child can lack,
Whether of pleasure or of rest,
Upon the abundance of my breast`:
A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.

`Three dear things that women know,`
Sang a bone upon the shore;
`A man if I but held him so
When my body was alive
Found all the pleasure that life gave`:
A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.

`The third thing that I think of yet,`
Sang a bone upon the shore,
`Is that morning when I met
Face to face my rightful man
And did after stretch and yawn`:
A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.
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