PoemA First Confession
Author / PoetWilliam Butler Yeats

I admit the briar
Entangled in my hair
Did not injure me;
My blenching and trembling,
Nothing but dissembling,
Nothing but coquetry.

I long for truth, and yet
I cannot stay from that
My better self disowns,
For a man’s attention
Brings such satisfaction
To the craving in my bones.

Brightness that I pull back
From the Zodiac,
Why those questioning eyes
That are fixed upon me?
What can they do but shun me
If empty night replies?

William Butler Yeats
William Butler Yeats
13 Jun 1865 - 28 Jan 1939
Region: Irish, Northern Europe
Period: Modernist
Movement: Irish Literary Revival, Symbolism
Awards: Nobel Prize in Literature

more poems by William Butler Yeats

Poem NameTopic
Summer And SpringOld, Spring, Summer
The Ballad Of Father GilliganForgive
The Empty CupOld, Young
The Death Of The HareDeath, Old, Wildness
The Friends Of His YouthOld, Pride, Young
The Lake Isle Of InnisfreeLake
The MermaidHappiness, Lovers, Mermaid
The Secrets Of The OldOld, Young
The Stolen ChildChild, Stolen
The Wild Swans At CooleBeauty, Twilight, Wing

all poems by William Butler Yeats

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