Poetry Bookclub: Yeats's The Wild Swans at Coole

[quasimodo1]

Many of Yeats' poems can be analyzed on many levels but this one has simplicity as backround theme. There is the "I am an old man in a dry month" (Eliot) element but that is balanced by the rejuvinating power of nature.

[Virgil]

Has anyone noticed the rather interesting rhyme scheme that Yeats uses? I always love Yeats' rhyme schemes; they are conventional looking but as you look closer he tends to come up with his own. Each stanza here uses an A/B/C/B/D/D pattern. I thought it was an A/B/A/B/C/C pattern, at least that's what I expected. But the first and third line do not ryhme. The rhyme scheme he ueses gives it such a natural feel (by not rhyming the first and third lines which are up front in each stanza), but by following a pattern after the initial lines still gives the stanza a pleasing harmony. Very nice.

[Il Penseroso]

The first stanza doesn't have that rhyme scheme, however. Right?

[Virgil]

The first stanza doesn't have that rhyme scheme, however. Right?

Well, here's that first stanza:

THE TREES are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones 5
Are nine and fifty swans.

Certainly the dry/sky is a rhyme in the second and fourth lines. I guess you mean the stones/swans rhyme of the fifth and sixth line. Two thoughts there. It is a a type of slant rhyme, especially given the consonant sound with the "n" that anchors both words and the "s" that conscludes each word. The question is how much of a slant is it. That brings me to my second thought and the answer depends how one pronounces them with an Irish accent. I've seen a number of Yeats' rhymes that seem to be based on an Irish accent. I'm no expert on that. Perhaps Niamh or someone from Ireland can help us with that.

[JBI]

The rhyme scheme throughout is xaxabb with the occasional slant (I believe in the first and second stanzas only) on the bb rhyme. Stone and Swan are supposed to rhyme, though they only slant rhyme, etc. From what I know of the poem, it is an intentional slant, but the words proceeding are designed to soften the slanting somewhat, by creating an alliterative texture of repetitive sounds.

[JBI]

Hmm, ready to move on to the next poem?

[Dark Muse]

This one seemed to have been well dicussed, I am interested to see the next poem.

[JBI]

. In Memory of Major Robert Gregory


1

NOW that we’re almost settled in our house
I’ll name the friends that cannot sup with us
Beside a fire of turf in the ancient tower,
And having talked to some late hour
Climb up the narrow winding stair to bed: 5
Discoverers of forgotten truth
Or mere companions of my youth,
All, all are in my thoughts to-night, being dead.

2

Always we’d have the new friend meet the old,
And we are hurt if either friend seem cold, 10
And there is salt to lengthen out the smart
In the affections of our heart,
And quarrels are blown up upon that head;
But not a friend that I would bring
This night can set us quarrelling, 15
For all that come into my mind are dead.

3

Lionel Johnson comes the first to mind,
That loved his learning better than mankind,
Though courteous to the worst; much falling he
Brooded upon sanctity 20
Till all his Greek and Latin learning seemed
A long blast upon the horn that brought
A little nearer to his thought
A measureless consummation that he dreamed.

4

And that enquiring man John Synge comes next, 25
That dying chose the living world for text
And never could have rested in the tomb
But that, long travelling, he had come
Towards nightfall upon certain set apart
In a most desolate stony place, 30
Towards nightfall upon a race
Passionate and simple like his heart.

5

And then I think of old George Pollexfen,
In muscular youth well known to Mayo men
For horsemanship at meets or at racecourses, 35
That could have shown how purebred horses
And solid men, for all their passion, live
But as the outrageous stars incline
By opposition, square and trine;
Having grown sluggish and contemplative. 40

6

They were my close companions many a year,
A portion of my mind and life, as it were,
And now their breathless faces seem to look
Out of some old picture-book;
I am accustomed to their lack of breath, 45
But not that my dear friend’s dear son,
Our Sidney and our perfect man,
Could share in that discourtesy of death.

7

For all things the delighted eye now sees
Were loved by him; the old storm-broken trees 50
That cast their shadows upon road and bridge;
The tower set on the stream’s edge;
The ford where drinking cattle make a stir
Nightly, and startled by that sound
The water-hen must change her ground; 55
He might have been your heartiest welcomer.

8

When with the Galway foxhounds he would ride
From Castle Taylor to the Roxborough side
Or Esserkelly plain, few kept his pace;
At Mooneen he had leaped a place 60
So perilous that half the astonished meet
Had shut their eyes, and where was it
He rode a race without a bit?
And yet his mind outran the horses’ feet.

9

We dreamed that a great painter had been born 65
To cold Clare rock and Galway rock and thorn,
To that stern colour and that delicate line
That are our secret discipline
Wherein the gazing heart doubles her might.
Soldier, scholar, horseman, he, 70
And yet he had the intensity
To have published all to be a world’s delight.

10

What other could so well have counselled us
In all lovely intricacies of a house
As he that practised or that understood 75
All work in metal or in wood,
In moulded plaster or in carven stone?
Soldier, scholar, horseman, he,
And all he did done perfectly
As though he had but that one trade alone. 80

11

Some burn damp fagots, others may consume
The entire combustible world in one small room
As though dried straw, and if we turn about
The bare chimney is gone black out
Because the work had finished in that flare. 85
Soldier, scholar, horseman, he,
As ’twere all life’s epitome.
What made us dream that he could comb grey hair?

12

I had thought, seeing how bitter is that wind
That shakes the shutter, to have brought to mind 90
All those that manhood tried, or childhood loved,
Or boyish intellect approved,
With some appropriate commentary on each;
Until imagination brought
A fitter welcome; but a thought 95
Of that late death took all my heart for speech.

[Dark Muse]

Out of curiosity I did a little research on Major Robert Gregory, he was an Irishman born in 1881 and died 1918, he was a very accomplished cricket player as well he excelled at bowling, boxing and horse riding. He was also an accomplished artist.

He was killed at the age of 37 in the war, he was an airman and an Italian pilot mistakenly shot him down.

[Quark]

Oh, good, we've moved on to the next poem. I was wondering how long we were going to linger on the first one. I'll post something on this after I get back from the store.

[Quark]

When I read this poem I see the calm, reflective mood of the first poem being overwhelmed by loss. The first few stanzas have an even tone and portray the deaths blandly, but the death of Robert Gregory is too much for the tone of the first stanzas. This is partly setup, of course. Yeats uses the first stanzas to heighten the effect of the last ones. To show how much Robery Gregory meant the poet remembers some other people who don't matter quite so much. Yet, the first stanzas could also represent a different way to regard the passing of Robert Gregory. Either way, the sixth stanza marks the change.

They were my close companions many a year,
A portion of my mind and life, as it were,
And now their breathless faces seem to look
Out of some old picture-book;
I am accustomed to their lack of breath, 45
But not that my dear friend’s dear son,
Our Sidney and our perfect man,
Could share in that discourtesy of death.

Out of curiosity I did a little research on Major Robert Gregory, he was an Irishman born in 1881 and died 1918, he was a very accomplished cricket player as well he excelled at bowling, boxing and horse riding. He was also an accomplished artist.

He was killed at the age of 37 in the war, he was an airman and an Italian pilot mistakenly shot him down.

I was also curious who exactly the poem was remembering. Good work, DM.

[JBI]

Our Sidney? He is comparing him to the Poet/critic Sir Philip Sidney? I think it would make sense in context.

[Dark Muse]

When I read this poem it seemed to have such a sad note. I wondered when this one was written. Though it was written about the death of one of his friends, the way it goes on, it made me think of a person growing older, while everyone he use to know is now dead.

And towrd the very end he seems to be thinking of his own death which he feels is near at hand, though he could just be feeling his mortality more having had someone he know die.

[sofia82]

.

NOW that we’re almost settled in our house
I’ll name the friends that cannot sup with us
Beside a fire of turf in the ancient tower,
And having talked to some late hour
Climb up the narrow winding stair to bed: 5
Discoverers of forgotten truth
Or mere companions of my youth,
All, all are in my thoughts to-night, being dead.

The persona, I of the poem, can be identified with the poet himself with lots of biographical references. It is an elegy written on his dear friends sudden death, Robert Gregory as Dark Muse Mentioned in January 1918 and it is written at the same time. It is interesting that Coole Park belongs to Lady Gregory which is the setting for the previous poem we discussed.

This "we" is Yeats and his wife who recently moved into a new house in "Thoor Ballylee, an old Norman tower not far from the Gregory estate". It has a melancholic and elegiac tone remembering all those friends of Yeats who are not alive now.

About the time, there is an emphasis on the present time (Now, Tonight) in comparison to all the friends lived in the past and even the ancient tower. It seems to me all belong to the past except the poet himself. (I have not refer to the next stanzas, up to now maybe I change the attitude)

The pattern is aabbcddc (it is interesting that I searched this pattern in Google and most of the results belong to Yeats' poems, does anyone know if there is any significance in this rhyming pattern?)


I tried to find the meter in the first stanza but I got confused and got nowhere. It is interesting that up to line five there are only a few words with more than one syllables and mostly not stressed. Choosing simple words in this form does signify the elegiac and melancholic tone of the poem? Moreover, when he wants to refer to those dead friends, suddenly the words have more than two syllables like "discoverers, forgotten, companion."

Can anyone help in finding the exact meter of this stanza?

[JBI]

I believe it is a variant on iambic pentametre with the second and third last line in tetramter to add emphasis.