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Though leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither into the truth.
W.B. Yeats
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pull down to refresh
Though leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither into the truth.
W.B. Yeats
Does the imagination dwell the most
Upon a woman won or a woman lost?
---William Butler Yeats