[identity profile] katykate.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] greatpoetry
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 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?
-- W. B. Yeats

Date: 2003-08-28 09:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alaric3.livejournal.com
one of my all-time favorites.

Date: 2003-08-28 02:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] epicstarshine.livejournal.com
YAY! I love that poem. It's my favorite :) Note: My profile, lol.

Date: 2003-08-29 02:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] madmouth.livejournal.com
I still get shivers every time I read it.

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