This great purple butterfly,
In the prison of my hands,
Has a learning in his eye
Not a poor fool understands.
Once he lived a schoolmaster
With a stark, denying look;
A string of scholars went in fear
Of his great birch and his great book.
Like the clangour of a bell,
Sweet and harsh, harsh and sweet.
That is how he learnt so well
To take the roses for his meat.
Back to William Butler Yeats
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Comments1Just read a lovely piece, really got me thinking. Particularly struck by the lines, "Like the clangour of a bell, Sweet and harsh, harsh and sweet." It speaks volumes about the duality of life's experiences, about embracing the bitter with the sweet. So beautifully penned, such vivid images and deep meaning. 👏😊🦋