Death

[Dark Muse]

I do not read a lot of Yeats, but I came acorss this one, and I really liked it

Death

Nor dread nor hope attend
A dying animal;
A man awaits his end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times he died,
Many times rose again.
A great man in his pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Supersession of breath;
He knows death to the bone --
Man has created death.

[Niamh]

Hey thanks for sharing that one! I love Yeats...but i never read that one...

[Mrs. Dalloway]

I love that poem.

[Stargazer86]

I'd never read that either. Have you ever read Emily Dickinson's Because I Could Not Stop for Death? The death topic got me thinking...

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

[David R]

I do not read a lot of Yeats, but I came acorss this one, and I really liked it

Death

Nor dread nor hope attend
A dying animal;
A man awaits his end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times he died,
Many times rose again.
A great man in his pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Supersession of breath;
He knows death to the bone --
Man has created death.

Hi All,

In case you don't already know, here is Yeats' self-written epitaph, the closing lines of the poem "Under Ben Bulben":

Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!

[Inka]

Hello.
Yeats is one of my favorites poets but I know nothing about him.
Do you know who did Yeats devote this poem to? Or even, why did he write this poem?

[blazeofglory]

I do not read a lot of Yeats, but I came acorss this one, and I really liked it

Death

Nor dread nor hope attend
A dying animal;
A man awaits his end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times he died,
Many times rose again.
A great man in his pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Supersession of breath;
He knows death to the bone --
Man has created death.

I like all of Yeats’ poems. And what appeals to me reading his poems are they are so ingrained with mysteries and mysticisms, a powerful blend of the mundane and the supernatural

[Inka]

I watched Equilibrium and one character there read a piece from one of Yeats' poems:
...But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

I loved it so much that I asked my sister to bring me a book of his poems.
That piece is so beautiful I just fell in love with it, I never heard of something more beautiful written in English since I always read translations.
Yeah, mysteries and mysticisms appealed to me, too, but it was also his style and beautiful images which he gives me through his poems.