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Written by William Butler Yeats
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I MADE my song a coat
Covered with embroideries
Out of old mythologies
From heel to throat;
But he fools caught it,
Wore it in the world's eyes
As though they'd wrought it.
Song, let them take it,
For there's more enterprise
In walking naked.
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Notorious, till all my priceless things
Are but a post the passing dogs defile.
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