Page:Yeats Responsibilities 1916.djvu/154

138 And all day long they cry, 'Come hither, Fool.' Rh Or else it's, 'Fool, be gone.' Rh Or, 'Fool, stand there.' Rh Or, 'Fool, go sit in the corner.' Rh And all the while What were they all but fools before I came? What are they now, but mirrors that seem men, Because of my image? Fool, hold up your head. Rh What foolish stories they have told of the ghosts That fumbled with the clothes upon the bed, Or creaked and shuffled in the corridor, Or else, if they were pious bred, Of angels from the skies,