1919 in poetry

—From A Prayer for My Daughter by W. B. Yeats, written on the birth of his daughter Anne on February 26

Considering that, all hatred driven hence,

The soul recovers radical innocence
And learns at last that it is self-delighting,
Self-appeasing, self-affrighting,
And that its own sweet will is heaven's will;
She can, though every face should scowl
And every windy quarter howl

Or every bellows burst, be happy still.

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