Pour One Out For Yeats

I am a big word nerd. One of my majors in college was English, and I've always loved poetry and books. (Confession: I've held onto my college Norton anthologies of English literature all of these years because 1. I can't bear to part with them, and 2. I still read them.)

Spending more time at home lately has given me ample opportunity to pull down favorite volumes and re-read them. I've also been spending a lot of evenings lately in my backyard hammock as the sun is getting low in the sky and the breeze is tickling the tree leaves.

This poem is one I committed to memory long ago (and one I've already noted via poetry project), and one night, I just found myself saying it aloud.

Yeats is one of my favorite poets, and though this isn't one of his most famous works, it has always spoken to me. If you're a fan, too, you'll have a reason to pour one out for Yeats soon. His birthday is June 13. HBD, WBY! Thanks for all of the beautiful words.