The Second Coming — William Butler Yeats
"The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity."
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The Second Coming
by William Butler Yeats
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?
Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash
One of the most memorable poems. The images and diction are so striking. The lines often come back to me in unrelated contexts—justifiably often-quoted.
Loved this poem when I encountered it in a university course in the early eighties. While I don’t hold to Yeats’ view of history, I love his use of language.