His chosen comrades thought at school He must grow a famous man; He thought the same and lived by rule, All his twenties crammed with toil; `What then?' sang Plato's ghost. `What then?' Everything he wrote was read, After certain years he won Sufficient money for his need, Friends that have been friends indeed; `What then?' sang Plato's ghost. `What then?' All his happier dreams came true - A small old house, wife, daughter, son, Grounds where plum and cabbage grew, Poets and Wits about him drew; `What then?' sang Plato's ghost. `What then?' `The work is done,' grown old he thought, `According to my boyish plan; Let the fools rage, I swerved in naught, Something to perfection brought'; But louder sang that ghost, `What then?'
YEATS, W.B.
"What then?"
in New Poems, ed.: J. C. C. Mays & Stephen Parrish, 1970.
"What then?"
in New Poems, ed.: J. C. C. Mays & Stephen Parrish, 1970.
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