Her Dream

William Butler Yeats

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I dreamed as in my bed I lay,
All night's fathomless wisdom come,
That I had shorn my locks away
And laid them on Love's lettered tomb:
But something bore them out of sight
In a great tumult of the air,
And after nailed upon the night
Berenice's burning hair.

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Comments1
  • christiebeo

    Came across this one again. I remember being introduced to it in my younger years. Didn't quite gel to it then and I am afraid it has not grown on me now either. It has a certain mystique about it, which should be intriguing, but it leaves me feeling unsure instead. Certainly not one of my preferred pieces, though I wouldn't mind appreciating it through someone else's perspective.