The Second Coming

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 conviction, 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 i{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 about 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?

by William Butler Yeats

Comments (31)

Willie had Trump in Mind.
Autoplay version of these poems is an attempt to kill them. I would send you a record if only I had a way to do that. At least remove those soul lacking voice tracks and simply leave the majestic words.
The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep beautiful thoughts
A PERFECT incantatory poem. Definitely has to be read aloud. Perhaps, the source of more allusions in titles of books, editorials, etc. than any other modern poem- obviously not a positive commentary on modern times.
Fine and lofty verse. Free flight of creativity on winged imagination. A masterful piece of poetry.
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