Saturday, January 22, 2005

 

The Second Coming

I read this for the first time when I was a senior in high school. I remember feeling that it could have been written that morning. Every time I've read it since then, I've had the same feeling. Maybe it's that sense of immediacy that makes this a great poem. Then again, maybe it's just a great poem.

The Second Coming

W. B. Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all convictions, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all around it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?






Comments:
Wow, thanks for that. As widely quoted as are many of its lines, I don't recall ever reading the poem intact. Kinda makes the hair stand up on one's neck, eh?
 
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?


Website Counter