- To Some I Have Talked With by the Fire
- While I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes,
- My heart would brim with dreams about the times
- When we bent down above the fading coals
- And talked of the dark folk who live in souls
- Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;
- And of the wayward twilight companies
- Who sigh with mingled sorrow and content,
- Because their blossoming dreams have never bent
- Under the fruit of evil and of good:
- And of the embattled flaming multitude
- Who rise, wing above wing, flame above flame,
- And, like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name,
- And with the clashing of their sword-blades make
- A rapturous music, till the morning break
- And the white hush end all but the loud beat
- Of their long wings, the flash of their white feet.
- -- W.B. Yeats, 1893
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
For Senator Ted Kennedy
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