This quote is from ‘The Old Age of Queen Maeve’.
‘out of the dark air over her head there came
A murmur of soft words and meeting lips.’—W.B. Yeats
She remembers what she has lost
There are some nights, like velvet, summer soft,
Or crisp and winter cold and full of stars,
When memories come crowding, golden motes,
As tender as the petals on the rose.
But like the roses fallen on the ground,
They fade away and leave without a sound.