" And what rough beast, his hour come round at last,

Shuffles toward Bethlehem to be born" WB Yeats/Sailing to Byzantium

" With rue my heart is laden, for many a friend I had.

For many a rose-lipped maiden, and many a light-foot lad

By brooks too broad for leaping, the lightfoot lads are laid

The rose-lipped maidens sleeping in fields where roses fade" AE Housman