Yeats’s speaker feels compelled to praise three women who have brought joy into his days. The first has stayed close through fifteen troubled years, never letting passing thoughts or deeper cares come between their delighted hearts. The second had a strong hand that loosened youth’s dreamy weight, changing him so that he now lives “labouring in ecstasy.” The third is harder to praise: she took everything until his youth was gone, with scarcely a pitying look. Yet when he lies awake at dawn for her sake, counting his good and bad, he remembers her proud eagle look—and such a great sweetness rises from his heart’s root that he trembles. So the praise is not a simple thank-you. Its mood is grateful, wondering, and slightly pained; joy here includes constancy, transformation, and even loss.
Friends — Summary
Now must I these three praise-- Three women that have wrought What joy is in my days; One that no passing thought, Nor those unpassing cares, No, not in these fifteen Many times troubled years, Could ever come between Heart and delighted heart; And one because her hand Had strength that could unbind What none can understand, What none can have and thrive, Youth's dreamy load, till she So changed me that I live Labouring in ecstasy. And what of her that took All till my youth was gone With scarce a pitying look? How should I praise that one? When day begins to break I count my good and bad, Being wakeful for her sake, Remembering what she had, What eagle look still shows, While up from my heart's root So great a sweetness flows I shake from head to foot.