Poemsby William Butler Yeats
You have still some way, But I can put you on the trodden path Your servants take when they are marketing. But first sit down and rest yourself awhile, For my old fathers served your fathers, lady, Longer than books can tell--and it were strange If you and yours should not be welcome here.
And it were stranger still were I ungrateful For such kind
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Beggars can't be choosers, but this is NOT a book of W. B. Yeats' poems. It contains some play scripts, most of them poorly typeset, and quite fragmentary; any poetry consists of only a few obscure verses in the last ten or fifteen pages. Some form of electronic scanning must have been used in formatting this book into an e-book, but this has resulted in random computer code, perhaps ASCII, interrupting the text or forming entire and illegible passages unto themselves. After I submit this review, I will be deleting this from my library. No loss for me, as it is free, but maybe it will save someone the effort! Whoever put this out there should be embarassed.