William Butler Yeats - A Poet To His Beloved lyrics

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William Butler Yeats - A Poet To His Beloved lyrics

I BRING you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams, White woman that pa**ion has worn As the tide wears the dove-grey sands, And with heart more old than the horn That is brimmed from the pale fire of time: White woman with numberless dreams, I bring you my pa**ionate rhyme.