The intellect of man is forced to choose
perfection of the life, or of the work,
And if it take the second must refuse
A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.
When all that story's finished, what's the news?
In luck or out the toil has left its mark:
That old perplexity an empty purse,
Or the day's vanity, the night's remorse.
The Choice
William Butler Yeats
(1)
Poem topics: dark, life, night, work, perfection, vanity, story, Valentine's Day, choose, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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