The Wheel

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Title:     The Wheel
Author: William Butler Yeats [More Titles by Yeats]

Through winter-time we call on spring,
And through the spring on summer call,
And when abounding hedges sing
Declare that winter's best of all;
And after that there's nothing good
Because the spring-time has not come--
Nor know that what disturbs our blood
Is but its longing for the tomb.

[The end]
William Butler Yeats's poem: The Wheel

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