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1865–1939

HER RACE

William Butler Yeats

She has not grown uncivil As narrow natures would And called the pleasures evil Happier days thought good;

She knows herself a woman No red and white of a face, Or rank, raised from a common Unreckonable race;

And how should her heart fail her Or sickness break her will With her dead brother's valour For an example still.

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HER RACE · William Butler Yeats · Poetry Cove