I have passed with a nod of the head, Or polite meaningless words,, And thought before I had done, Of a mocking tale or a gibe, Being certain that they and I, But lived where motley is worn:, All's changed, changed utterly, A terrible beauty is born., That woman's days were spent, In ignorant good-will, This man had kept a school, And rode our winged horse, This other man I had dreamed, A drunken, vainglorious lout., He, too, has resigned his part, In this casual comedy., Hearts with one purpose alone..., Enchanted to a stone, Minute by minute they live:, The stone's in the midst of all., Too long a sacrifice, Can make a stone of the heart., Was it needless death after all?, For England may keep faith, enough To know they dreamed, and are dead., Now and in time to be,, Wherever green is worn,

Easter 1916

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