Friday, January 28, 2005


Will at Crescat Sententia notes that it was today, 65 years ago, that Yeats died.

Quod he already the great Auden poem, so let me give you something from Yeats himself:


The intellect of man is forced to choose
Perfection of the life, or of the work,
And if it take the second must refuse
A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.
When all that story's finished, what's the news?
In luck or out the toil has left its mark:
That old perplexity an empty purse,
Or the day's vanity, the night's remorse.


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