I took this photo whilst driving into the town of Sligo, Ireland.
I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
That woman's days were spent
In ignorant good-will,
Her nights in argument
Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When, young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
And rode our wingèd horse;
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vainglorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road,
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it;
The long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to moor-cocks call;
Minute by minute they live:
The stone's in the midst of all.
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse—
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Specific poetic elements within Yeats’ poem, Easter 1916, illustrate my theory and explore the individuals specifically mentioned in his poem: MacDonagh, MacBride, Connolly, and Pearse. He lists these individuals to emphasize the political relevance of each person in the historical year, 1916. Yeats employed iconic realism within the multiple analogies contained within the lines of this poem, illustrating the cultural transformations that concerned the Irish citizens during the decade:1913-1923.
Throughout Easter 1916, Yeats places ambivalent characters in roles that align with various specific cultural hierarchies to elicit a challenge for his reading audience to align their mind-set with revolutionary deliberation. His characters possess multiple symbolic implications in his effort to fortify his stance on the duality of consciousness within Irish culture in 1916.
Thus, Yeats places iconic illustrations of simplicity while he alludes to ancient complexities. His connections produce poetry that both inspire and enflame. Moreover, his revolutionary speech originates in his characters, who speak in terms with which most of his reading audience would be able to comprehend, terms that deal primarily with nature and its course. Finally, Yeats weaves his poetry to blend the linguistic patterns and cultural customs of his homeland in Sligo, Ireland, with the political events of 1916 and ancient cultural icons as he repetitively states, "A terrible beauty is born."
