New Poems (Yeats)/The Chambermaid's Second Song
<poem> FROM pleasure of the bed, Dull as a worm, His rod and its butting head Limp as a worm, His spirit that has fled Blind as a worm.
<poem> FROM pleasure of the bed, Dull as a worm, His rod and its butting head Limp as a worm, His spirit that has fled Blind as a worm.