Posted on 1 January, 2021 by thebestnchic The Lovers Song by William Butler Yeats Bird sighs for the air, Thought for I know not where, For the womb the seed sighs. Now sinks the same rest On mind, on nest, On straining thighs. Share this:TwitterFacebookMoreLinkedInRedditTumblrPinterestWhatsApp Related Post navigationPrevious post: The Living BeautyNext post: The Magi