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I RANTED to the knave and fool, But outgrew that school, Would transform the part, Fit audience found, but cannot rule My fanatic heart. I sought my betters: though in each Fine manners, liberal speech, Turn hatred into sport, Nothing said or done can reach My fanatic heart, Out of Ireland have we come. Great hatred, little room, Maimed us at the start. I carry from my mother's womb A fanatic heart. Yeats'I am of Ireland, And the Holy Land of Ireland, And time runs on,' cried she. 'Come out of charity, Come dance with me in Ireland.'One man, one man alone In that outlandish gear, One solitary man Of all that rambled there Had turned his stately head. That is a long way off, And time runs on,' he said, 'And the night grows rough.''I am of Ireland, And the Holy Land of Ireland, And time runs on,' cried she. 'Come out of charity And dance with me in Ireland.''The fiddlers are all thumbs, Or the fiddle-string accursed, The drums and the kettledrums And the trumpets all are burst, And the trombone,' cried he, 'The trumpet and trombone,' And cocked a malicious eye, 'But time runs on, runs on.'I am of Ireland, And the Holy Land of Ireland, And time runs on,' cried she. "Come out of charity And dance with me in Ireland.' Yeats

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HANRAHAN'S VISION. It was in the month of June Hanrahan was on the road near Sligo, buthe did not go into the town, but turned towards Beinn Bulben; forthere were thoughts of the old times coming upon him, and he had nomind to meet with common men. And as he walked he was singing tohimself a song that had come to him one time in his dreams: O Death's old bony finger Will never find us there In the high hollow townland Where love's to give and to spare; Where boughs have fruit and blossom At all times of the year; Where rivers are running over With red beer and brown beer. An old man plays the bagpipes In a gold and silver wood; Queens, their eyes blue like the ice, Are dancing in a crowd. The little fox he murmured, 'O what of the world's bane?' The sun was laughing sweetly, The moon plucked at my rein; But the little red fox murmured, 'O do not pluck at his rein, He is riding to the townland That is the world's bane.' When their hearts are so high That they would come to blows, They unhook their heavy swords From golden and silver boughs: But all that are killed in battle Awaken to life again: It is lucky that their story Is not known among men. For O, the strong farmers That would let the spade lie, Their hearts would be like a cup That somebody had drunk dry. Michael will unhook his trumpet From a bough overhead, And blow a little noise When the supper has been spread. Gabriel will come from the water With a fish tail, and talk Of wonders that have happened On wet roads where men walk, And lift up an old horn Of hammered silver, and drink Till he has fallen asleep Upon the starry brink.Hanrahan had begun to climb the mountain then, and he gave oversinging, for it was a long climb for him, and every now and again hehad to sit down and to rest for a while. And one time he was restinghe took notice of a wild briar bush, with blossoms on it, that wasgrowing beside a rath, and it brought to mind the wild roses he usedto bring to Mary Lavelle, and to no woman after her. And he tore offa little branch of the bush, that had buds on it and open blossoms,and he went on with his song: The little fox he murmured, 'O what of the world's bane?' The sun was laughing sweetly, The moon plucked at my rein; But the little red fox murmured, 'O do not pluck at his rein, He is riding to the townland That is the world's bane.'And he went on climbing the hill, and left the rath, and there cameto his mind some of the old poems that told of lovers, good and bad,and of some that were awakened from the sleep of the grave itself bythe strength of one another's love, and brought away to a life insome shadowy place, where they are waiting for the judgment andbanished from the face of God.And at last, at the fall of day, he came to the Steep Gap of theStrangers, and there he laid himself down along a ridge of rock, andlooked into the valley, that was full of grey mist spreading frommountain to mountain.And it seemed to him as he looked that the mist changed to shapes ofshadowy men and women, and his heart began to beat with the fear andthe joy of the sight. And his hands, that were always restless, beganto pluck off the leaves of the roses on the little branch, and hewatched them as they went floating down into the valley in a littlefluttering troop.Suddenly he heard a faint music, a music that had more laughter in itand more crying than all the music of this world. And his heart rosewhen he heard that, and he began to laugh out loud, for he knew thatmusic was made by some who had a beauty and a greatness beyond thepeople of this world. And it seemed to him that the little soft roseleaves as they went fluttering down into the valley began to changetheir shape till they looked like a troop of men and women far off inthe mist, with the colour of the roses on them. And then that colourchanged to many colours, and what he saw was a long line of tallbeautiful young men, and of queen-women, that were not going from himbut coming towards him and past him, and their faces were full oftenderness for all their proud looks, and were very pale and worn, asif they were seeking and ever seeking for high sorrowful things. Andshadowy arms were stretched out of the mist as if to take hold ofthem, but could not touch them, for the quiet that was about themcould not be broken. And before them and beyond them, but at adistance as if in reverence, there were other shapes, sinking andrising and coming and going, and Hanrahan knew them by their whirlingflight to be the Sidhe, the ancient defeated gods; and the shadowyarms did not rise to take hold of them, for they were of those thatcan neither sin nor obey. And they all lessened then in the distance,and they seemed to be going towards the white door that is in theside of the mountain.The mist spread out before him now like a deserted sea washing themountains with long grey waves, but while he was looking at it, itbegan to fill again with a flowing broken witless life that was apart of itself, and arms and pale heads covered with tossing hairappeared in the greyness. It rose higher and higher till it was levelwith the edge of the steep rock, and then the shapes grew to besolid, and a new procession half lost in mist passed very slowly withuneven steps, and in the midst of each shadow there was somethingshining in the starlight. They came nearer and nearer, and Hanrahansaw that they also were lovers, and that they had heart-shapedmirrors instead of hearts, and they were looking and ever looking ontheir own faces in one another's mirrors. They passed on, sinkingdownward as they passed, and other shapes rose in their place, andthese did not keep side by side, but followed after one another,holding out wild beckoning arms, and he saw that those who werefollowed were women, and as to their heads they were beyond allbeauty, but as to their bodies they were but shadows without life,and their long hair was moving and trembling about them, as if itlived with some terrible life of its own. And then the mist rose of asudden and hid them, and then a light gust of wind blew them awaytowards the north-east, and covered Hanrahan at the same time with awhite wing of cloud.He stood up trembling and was going to turn away from the valley,when he saw two dark and half-hidden forms standing as if in the airjust beyond the rock, and one of them that had the sorrowful eyes ofa beggar said to him in a woman's voice, 'Speak to me, for no one inthis world or any other world has spoken to me for seven hundredyears.''Tell me who are those that have passed by,' said Hanrahan.'Those that passed first,' the woman said, 'are the lovers that hadthe greatest name in the old times, Blanad and Deirdre and Grania andtheir dear comrades, and a great many that are not so well known butare as well loved. And because it was not only the blossom of youththey were looking for in one another, but the beauty that is aslasting as the night and the stars, the night and the stars hold themfor ever from the warring and the perishing, in spite of the wars andthe bitterness their love brought into the world. And those that camenext,' she said, 'and that still breathe the sweet air and have themirrors in their hearts, are not put in songs by the poets, becausethey sought only to triumph one over the other, and so to prove theirstrength and beauty, and out of this they made a kind of love. And asto the women with shadow-bodies, they desired neither to triumph norto love but only to be loved, and there is no blood in their heartsor in their bodies until it flows through them from a kiss, and theirlife is but for a moment. All these are unhappy, but I am theunhappiest of all, for I am Dervadilla, and this is Dermot, and itwas our sin brought the Norman into Ireland. And the curses of allthe generations are upon us, and none are punished as we arepunished. It was but the blossom of the man and of the woman we lovedin one another, the dying beauty of the dust and not the everlastingbeauty. When we died there was no lasting unbreakable quiet about us,and the bitterness of the battles we brought into Ireland turned toour own punishment. We go wandering together for ever, but Dermotthat was my lover sees me always as a body that has been a long timein the ground, and I know that is the way he sees me. Ask me more,ask me more, for all the years have left their wisdom in my heart,and no one has listened to me for seven hundred years.'A great terror had fallen upon Hanrahan, and lifting his arms abovehis head he screamed out loud three times, and the cattle in thevalley lifted their heads and lowed, and the birds in the wood at theedge of the mountain awaked out of their sleep and fluttered throughthe trembling leaves. But a little below the edge of the rock, thetroop of rose leaves still fluttered in the air, for the gateway ofEternity had opened and shut again in one beat of the heart.

My Blog

They’ll keep us apart...

Have you ever felt blinding hatred...?
Posted by on Sun, 29 Jun 2008 05:58:00 GMT

Short and weird

A short novella. I carried my dreams in a casket of silver, and I kept it unlocked for three relative souls - three brothers of mine, to whom I was bound, I think, long before I was born. They all wer...
Posted by on Mon, 23 Jun 2008 02:39:00 GMT

brrr

Who knows what is it like to be alone? A poet, a hero and....
Posted by on Sun, 25 May 2008 09:39:00 GMT

Holywood and literature (The Ring, the wand and the sword:)

That's a question indeed, if Holywood spoils good literature by making money of it. I mean, one friend of mine wouldn't have called "The Lord of the Rings" commercial, if not for the famous film thril...
Posted by on Sun, 25 May 2008 06:42:00 GMT

I wonder...

When was "childish" a synonim of "bad"?
Posted by on Sun, 25 May 2008 05:49:00 GMT

An illustration to the previous blog

...
Posted by on Sat, 24 May 2008 20:17:00 GMT

Check out this video: The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian Trailer

Check out this video: The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian Trailer ..Add to My Profile | More Videos
Posted by on Sun, 18 May 2008 07:36:00 GMT

Paolo and Francesca in Divine Comedy

One day, to pass the time away, we readof Lancelot how love had overcome him.We were alone, and we suspected nothing.And time and time again that reading ledour eyes to meet, and made our faces pale,...
Posted by on Tue, 29 Apr 2008 14:43:00 GMT

Hanrahan’s Vision

'Tell me who are those that have passed by,' said Hanrahan. 'Those that passed first,' the woman said, 'are the lovers that hadthe greatest name in the old times, Blanad and Deirdre and Grania andthei...
Posted by on Tue, 29 Apr 2008 14:04:00 GMT

no

This is wearing me off. I can’t live like this. This is too much. A life of breathing for two hours a day, and dying all the other time...
Posted by on Sat, 22 Mar 2008 13:10:00 GMT