The Magi

W. B. Yeats(1865–1939)

Responsibilities, 1914

Now as at all times I can see in the mind's eye,In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied onesAppear and disappear in the blue depth of the skyWith all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,And all their helms of silver hovering side by side,And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied,The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.

From Responsibilities (1914), via the English Wikisource transcription.

Public domainThis poem is in the public domain. You may read it, copy it, recite it and publish it without asking anyone.