Verse > W.B. Yeats > The Wind Among the Reeds
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W.B. Yeats (1865–1939).  The Wind Among the Reeds.  1899.

16. Hanrahan reproves the Curlew


O, CURLEW, cry no more in the air, 
Or only to the waters in the West; 
Because your crying brings to my mind 
Passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair 
That was shaken out over my breast:         5
There is enough evil in the crying of wind. 


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