TOWARDS BREAK OF DAY
 
 WAS it the double of my dream
 The woman that by me lay
 Dreamed, or did we halve a dream
 Under the first cold gleam of day?
 I thought:  "There is a waterfall
 Upon Ben Bulben side
 That all my childhood counted dear;
 Were I to travel far and wide
 I could not find a thing so dear.'
 My memories had magnified
 So many times childish delight.
 I would have touched it like a child
 But knew my finger could but have touched
 Cold stone and water.  I grew wild.
 Even accusing Heaven because
 It had set down among its laws:
 Nothing that we love over-much
 Is ponderable to our touch.
 I dreamed towards break of day,
 The cold blown spray in my nostril.
 But she that beside me lay
 Had watched in bitterer sleep
 The marvellous stag of Arthur,
 That lofty white stag, leap
 From mountain steep to steep.