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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=537239" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Lover Speaks To The Hearers Of His Songs In Coming Days</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=537239" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">O WOMEN, kneeling by your altar-rails long hence,<br>When songs I wove for my beloved hide the prayer,<br>And smoke from this dead heart drifts through the violet air<br>And covers away the smoke of myrrh and frankincense;<br>Bend down and pray for all that sin I wove in song,<br>Till the Attorney for Lost Souls cry her sweet cry,<br>And.call to my beloved and me: 'No longer fly<br>Amid the hovering, piteouS, penitential throng.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=William+Butler+Yeats">William Butler Yeats</a></strong></div>

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