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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537122" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Man And The Echo</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Man. In a cleft that's christened Alt<br> Under broken stone I halt<br> At the bottom of a pit<br> That broad noon has never lit,<br> And shout a secret to the stone.<br> All that I have said and done,<br> Now that I am old and ill,<br> Turns into a question till<br> I lie awake night after night<br> And never get the answers right.<br> Did that play of mine send out<br> Certain men the English shot?<br> Did words of mine put too great strain<br> On that woman's reeling brain?<br> Could my spoken words have checked<br> That whereby a house lay wrecked?<br> And all seems evil until I<br> Sleepless would lie down and die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Echo. Lie down and die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Man.  That were to shirk<br> The spiritual intellect's great work,<br> And shirk it in vain. There is no release<br> In a bodkin or disease,<br> Nor can there be work so great<br> As that which cleans man's dirty slate.<br> While man can still his body keep<br> Wine or love drug him to sleep,<br> Waking he thanks the Lord that he<br> Has body and its stupidity,<br> But body gone he sleeps no more,<br> And till his intellect grows sure<br> That all's arranged in one clear view,<br> pursues the thoughts that I pursue,<br> Then stands in judgment on his soul,<br> And, all work done, dismisses all<br> Out of intellect and sight<br> And sinks at last into the night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Echo. Into the night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Man.  O Rocky Voice,<br> Shall we in that great night rejoice?<br> What do we know but that we face<br> One another in this place?<br> But hush, for I have lost the theme,<br> Its joy or night-seem but a dream;<br> Up there some hawk or owl has struck,<br> Dropping out of sky or rock,<br> A stricken rabbit is crying out,<br> And its cry distracts my thought.</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=537122" data-title="Man And The Echo de William Butler Yeats" data-description="Man. In a cleft that's christened Alt
 Under broken stone I halt
 At the bottom of a pit
 That broad noon has never lit,
 And shout a secret to the stone.
 All that I have said and done,
 Now that I am old and ill,
 Turns into a question till
 I l..."></div>
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