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January 7, 2012: Difference between revisions

From Gerald R. Lucas
m Added ln.
Tweaked format; added notes.
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<blockquote><blockquote>
{{Journal-Top}}<div style="padding-top: 30px;">
{{Large|Sailing to Byzantium}}<br />
{{Center|{{Large|Sailing to Byzantium}}<br />
By: '''[[Wikipedia:W. B. Yeats|W. B. Yeats]]''' (1928)
By: '''[[w:W. B. Yeats|W. B. Yeats]]''' ([[w:Sailing to Byzantium|1927]]) }}
 
<div style="display: flex; justify-content: center; padding: 25px 0 25px 0;">
{| style="width: 600px;"
|
<poem>
<poem>
{{Center|1}}
That is no country for old men. The young
That is no country for old men. The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
 — Those dying generations — at their song,
—Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long {{ln|5}}
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long {{ln|5}}
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Monuments of unageing intellect.
Monuments of unageing intellect.


{{Center|2}}
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless {{ln|10}}
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless {{ln|10}}
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
Soul clap its hands and sing,{{refn|The poet [[w:William Blake|William Blake]] saw his brother’s soul rising to Heaven, “clapping his hands for joy.”}} and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Nor is there singing school but studying
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To the holy city of Byzantium.
To the holy city of Byzantium.


{{Center|3}}
O sages standing in God’s holy fire
O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne{{efn|A reel or spool on which something is wound.}} in a gyre,{{efn|To whirl around in a spiral.}}
Come from the holy fire, {{H:title|A reel or spool on which something is wound.|perne}} in a {{H:title|To whirl around in a spiral.|gyre}},
And be the singing-masters of my soul. {{ln|20}}
And be the singing-masters of my soul. {{ln|20}}
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
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Into the artifice of eternity.
Into the artifice of eternity.


{{Center|4}}
Once out of nature I shall never take {{ln|25}}
Once out of nature I shall never take {{ln|25}}
My bodily form from any natural thing,
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enameling
Of hammered gold and gold enameling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;{{refn|I have read somewhere that the Emperor’s palace at Byzantium was a tree made of gold and silver, and artificial birds that sang. [Yeat’s note.]}}
Or set upon a golden bough to sing {{ln|30}}
Or set upon a golden bough to sing {{ln|30}}
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
</poem>
</poem>
</blockquote></blockquote>
|}</div>
 
===Notes===
{{notelist}}


{{Notes}}


{{2012|state=expanded}}
{{2012|state=expanded}}
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[[Category:01/2012]]
[[Category:01/2012]]
[[Category:Poetry]]
[[Category:Poetry]]
[[Category:Annotated]]

Revision as of 15:23, 21 August 2021

Sailing to Byzantium
By: W. B. Yeats (1927)
1

That is no country for old men. The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
—Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long 5
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

2

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless 10
Soul clap its hands and sing,[1] and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come 15
To the holy city of Byzantium.

3

O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul. 20
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

4

Once out of nature I shall never take 25
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enameling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;[2]
Or set upon a golden bough to sing 30
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.



notes

  1. The poet William Blake saw his brother’s soul rising to Heaven, “clapping his hands for joy.”
  2. I have read somewhere that the Emperor’s palace at Byzantium was a tree made of gold and silver, and artificial birds that sang. [Yeat’s note.]