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A Coat

I MADE my song a coat

Covered with embroideries

Out of old mythologies

From heel to throat;

But he fools caught it,

Wore it in the world's eyes

As though they'd wrought it.

Song, let them take it,

For there's more enterprise

In walking naked.

1

Notorious, till all my priceless things

Are but a post the passing dogs defile.

Written by
William Butler Yeats
1865-1939 / Male / Irish
Lines·Words
13·60
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