Sailing To Byzantium, by Yeats

No Country For Old Men “Sailing To Byzantium” – by William Butler Yeats That is no country for old men. The young In one another’s arms, birds in the trees –Those dying generations–at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all […]