And bending down beside the glowing bars,2
10 Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
1891 1892,1899
Who Goes with Fergus?1
Who will go drive with Fergus now, And pierce the deep wood's woven shade, And dance upon the level shore? Young man, lift up your russet brow,
5 And lift your tender eyelids, maid, And brood on hopes and fear no more.
And no more turn aside and brood Upon love's bitter mystery; For Fergus rules the brazen cars,0 bronze chariots
10 And rules the shadows of the wood, And the white breast of the dim sea And all dishevelled wandering stars.
The Man Who Dreamed of Faeryland
He stood among a crowd at Drumahair;1
His heart hung all upon a silken dress,
1. A poem suggested by a sonnet by the French gus, 'king of the proud Red Branch Kings,' gave poet Pierre de Ronsard (1524?1585); it begins: up his throne voluntarily to King Conchubar of 'Quand vous serez bien vieille, au soir, a la chan-Ulster to learn by dreaming and meditating the bitdelle' (When you are quite old, in the evening by ter wisdom of the poet and philosopher. candlelight). 1. This and other place-names in the poem refer 2. I.e., of the grate. to places in County Sligo. I. In a late version of this Irish heroic legend, Fer
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THE MAN WHO DREAMED OF FAERYLAND / 2027
And he had known at last some tenderness, Before earth took him to her stony care; 5
But when a man poured fish into a pile, It seemed they raised their little silver heads, And sang what gold morning or evening sheds Upon a woven world-forgotten isle Where people love beside the ravelled2 seas;
10 That Time can never mar a lover's vows Under that woven changeless roof of boughs: The singing shook him out of his new ease.
He wandered by the sands of Lissadell; His mind ran all on money cares and fears,
15 And he had known at last some prudent years Before they heaped his grave under the hill; But while he passed before a plashy place, A lug-worm with its grey and muddy mouth Sang that somewhere to north or west or south
20 There dwelt a gay, exulting, gentle race Under the golden or the silver skies; That if a dancer stayed his hungry foot It seemed the sun and moon were in the fruit: And at that singing he was no more wise.
25 He mused beside the well of Scanavin, He mused upon his mockers; without fail His sudden vengeance were a country tale, When earthy night had drunk his body in; But one small knot-grass growing by the pool
so Sang where?unnecessary cruel voice? Old silence bids its chosen race rejoice, Whatever ravelled waters rise and fall Or stormy silver fret the gold of day, And midnight there enfold them like a fleece
35 And lover there by lover be at peace. The tale drove his fine angry mood away.
He slept under the hill of Lugnagall; And might have known at last unhaunted sleep Under that cold and vapour-turbaned steep,
40 Now that the earth had taken man and all: Did not the worms that spired about his bones Proclaim with that unwearied, reedy cry That God has laid His fingers on the sky, That from those fingers glittering summer runs
45 Upon the dancer by the dreamless wave. Why should those lovers that no lovers miss Dream, until God burn Nature with a kiss? The man has found no comfort in the grave.
1891,1930
2. Tangled; here turbulent.
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2028 / WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
Adam's Curse1
We sat together at one summer's end, That beautiful mild woman, your close friend, And you and I,2 and talked of poetry. I said, 'A line will take us hours maybe;
5 Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, Our stitching and unstitching has been naught. Better go down upon your marrow-bones And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones Like an old pauper, in all kinds of weather;
10 For to articulate sweet sounds together Is to work harder than all these, and yet Be thought an idler by the noisy set Of bankers, schoolmasters, and clergymen The martyrs call the world.'
And thereupon
15 That beautiful mild woman for whose sake There's many a one shall find out all heartache On finding that her voice is sweet and low Replied, 'To be born woman is to know? Although they do not talk of it at school?
20 That we must labour to be beautiful.'
