William Butler Yeats

A Man Young And Old: 2. Human Dignity

Like the moon her kindness is, If kindness I may call What has no comprehension in't, But is the same for all As though my sorrow were a scene Upon a painted wall. So like a bit of stone I lie Under a broken tree. I could recover if I shrieked My heart's agony To passing bird, but I am dumb From human dignity.