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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537066" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Easter, 1916</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have met them at close of day<br>Coming with vivid faces<br>From counter or desk among grey<br>Eighteenth-century houses.<br>I have passed with a nod of the head<br>Or polite meaningless words,<br>Or have lingered awhile and said<br>Polite meaningless words,<br>And thought before I had done<br>Of a mocking tale or a gibe<br>To please a companion<br>Around the fire at the club,<br>Being certain that they and I<br>But lived where motley is worn:<br>All changed, changed utterly:<br>A terrible beauty is born.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That woman's days were spent<br>In ignorant good-will,<br>Her nights in argument<br>Until her voice grew shrill.<br>What voice more sweet than hers<br>When, young and beautiful,<br>She rode to harriers?<br>This man had kept a school<br>And rode our winged horse;<br>This other his helper and friend<br>Was coming into his force;<br>He might have won fame in the end,<br>So sensitive his nature seemed,<br>So daring and sweet his thought.<br>This other man I had dreamed<br>A drunken, vainglorious lout.<br>He had done most bitter wrong<br>To some who are near my heart,<br>Yet I number him in the song;<br>He, too, has resigned his part<br>In the casual comedy;<br>He, too, has been changed in his turn,<br>Transformed utterly:<br>A terrible beauty is born.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hearts with one purpose alone<br>Through summer and winter seem<br>Enchanted to a stone<br>To trouble the living stream.<br>The horse that comes from the road.<br>The rider, the birds that range<br>From cloud to tumbling cloud,<br>Minute by minute they change;<br>A shadow of cloud on the stream<br>Changes minute by minute;<br>A horse-hoof slides on the brim,<br>And a horse plashes within it;<br>The long-legged moor-hens dive,<br>And hens to moor-cocks call;<br>Minute by minute they live:<br>The stone's in the midst of all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Too long a sacrifice<br>Can make a stone of the heart.<br>O when may it suffice?<br>That is Heaven's part, our part<br>To murmur name upon name,<br>As a mother names her child<br>When sleep at last has come<br>On limbs that had run wild.<br>What is it but nightfall?<br>No, no, not night but death;<br>Was it needless death after all?<br>For England may keep faith<br>For all that is done and said.<br>We know their dream; enough<br>To know they dreamed and are dead;<br>And what if excess of love<br>Bewildered them till they died?<br>I write it out in a verse -<br>MacDonagh and MacBride<br>And Connolly and pearse<br>Now and in time to be,<br>Wherever green is worn,<br>Are changed, changed utterly:<br>A terrible beauty is born.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Butler+Yeats">William Butler Yeats</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537066" data-title="Easter, 1916 de William Butler Yeats" data-description="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 tho..."></div>
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