The Rose of the World, by William Butler Yeats THE ROSE OF THE WORLD by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream? For these red lips, with all their mournful pride, Mournful that no new wonder may betide, Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam, And Usna’s children died. We and the labouring world are passing by: Amid men’s souls, that waver and give place..