I
I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
II
That woman's days were spent
In ignorant good-will,
Her nights in argument
Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When, young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
And rode our winged horse;
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vainglorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near to my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
III
Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road,
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it;
The long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to moor-cocks call;
Minute by minute they live:
The stone's in the midst of it all.
IV
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmer name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse--
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
>>7663542
Easter, 1916 is a poem by W. B. Yeats describing the poet's torn emotions regarding the events of the Easter Rising staged in Ireland against British rule on Easter Monday, April 24, 1916. The uprising was unsuccessful, and most of the Irish republican leaders involved were executed for treason. The poem was written between May and September 1916, but first published in 1921 in the collection Michael Robartes and the Dancer.
Interestingly, the date of the Easter Rising can be seen in the structure of the poem also: there are 16 lines (for 1916) in the first and third stanzas, 24 lines (for April 24, the date the Rising began) in the second and fourth stanzas, and four stanzas in total (which refers to April, the fourth month of the year).
this is my new favorite meme
"The love of Yeats for Maud Gonne MacBride, who was married to one of the participants, John MacBride, brought the events close to home."
Yeats is so humbled here that he pays homage to a man who beat the woman Yeats loved during drunken fits.
>>7664628
yeah, as far as memes go, this ones pretty good. Like the idea of browsing /lit/ and stumbling across a stray Yeats poem in the midst of absurd quantities of shitposting and memes.
i enjoyed this poem but wouldn't have enjoyed it as much without the context >>7663581
He
Finally, meet
does not
home on the shelves, or table
The first 18 houses.
I went to his head
Or an elegant farce
Or our final
Good rankings
But before that, I think I
A jive not followed Profile
development accumulation
Approximately half of
He found
But I am ready:
Replace all changes:
USA devil was born.
two
In a few days
Loyalty and ignorance,
speak night
His tone was more.
Sound will be a good thing
When a good man
You will find the sparrow hawk?
a school
We had a trailer with wings.
Also, parts and relations
He was in the Army.
This will be the last heard
So, as soon as the audience, we
Right.
I slept a little. other
Model of the drink.
When he made a mistake acid
A part of my heart
However, you can give the number of songs.
He took his place
Not comedy.
this
All change:
USA devil was born.
three
one goal in mind
This summer as well as winter
rock
Life is a serious problem.
Learn to horse
Knight variety of birds
Autumn Clouds,
This will change the moment.
clouds
Change the value of time.
After home rsesho cover
At Plashes.
Desert legs - chicken,
Chicken, stop and call your team.
They live for the moment:
Mid-inch stone
four
Offering long
You shake your heart.
Yes, sometimes this is not enough?
some as far in this section
murmur the name and title,
As a mother
If you do not sleep
environment.
Which day?
No, no, no, but he died that night.
No tree death, ultimately?
There's a confidence in the UK
All told.
I know the dream story. fantastic
They know if dreams die.
I like
National Pain?
I wrote verse--
Mike McBride more
Connolly Pierce
immediately
the green
different
USA devil was born.
>>7666828
Oh wow this is a super deep poen. Yeats is truly one of the old masters of poem writing
What's with the awkward timing? Especially around
> This other man I had dreamed
> A drunken, vainglorious lout.
Searched up readings online and it still sounds awful.
>>7663542
I approve of this.
>>7663542
Fuck off
>>7663581
please do lapis lazuli next
>>7668062
I love Lapis Lazuli.
>>7663542
I like going on lit and seeing a thing worth reading.
