In the silent breaths of twilight,
Where shadows softly weave,
Yeats whispers hope in the night,
A promise we can believe.

Beneath the stars’ gentle glow,
Dreams rise from the deep,
Like rivers that silently flow,
Through the valleys of sleep.

With every dawn’s tender light,
A new hope takes its flight,
Guiding hearts through the night,
Toward the horizon so bright.

Yeats’ hope, a steadfast guide,
In a world so vast and wide,
Through every storm and tide,
It always stays by our side.