25. Aedh tells of the perfect Beauty O CLOUD-PALE eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes The poets labouring all their days To build a perfect beauty in rhyme Are overthrown by a woman’s gaze And by the unlabouring brood of the skies: And therefore my heart will bow, when dew Is dropping sleep, until God burn time, Before the unlabouring stars and you. –William Butler Yeats