The lot of love is chosen. I learnt that much
Struggling for an image on the track
Of the whirling Zodiac.
Scarce did he my body touch,
Scarce sank he from the west
Or found a subtetranean rest
On the maternal midnight of my breast
Before I had marked him on his northern way,
And seemed to stand although in bed I lay.
I struggled with the horror of daybreak,
I chose it for my lot! If questioned on
My utmost pleasure with a man
By some new-married bride, I take
That stillness for a theme
Where his heart my heart did seem
And both adrift on the miraculous stream
Where-wrote a learned astrologer-
The Zodiac is changed into a sphere.
Chosen
William Butler Yeats
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Poem topics: pleasure, touch, bride, sphere, stand, chosen, body, stream, horror, heart, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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