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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537147" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Parnell's Funeral</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Under the Great Comedian's tomb the crowd.<br>A bundle of tempestuous cloud is blown<br>About the sky; where that is clear of cloud<br>Brightness remains; a brighter star shoots down;<br>What shudders run through all that animal blood?<br>What is this sacrifice? Can someone there<br>Recall the Cretan barb that pierced a star?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rich foliage that the starlight glittered through,<br>A frenzied crowd, and where the branches sprang<br>A beautiful seated boy; a sacred bow;<br>A woman, and an arrow on a string;<br>A pierced boy, image of a star laid low.<br>That woman, the Great Mother imaging,<br>Cut out his heart. Some master of design<br>Stamped boy and tree upon Sicilian coin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An age is the reversal of an age:<br>When strangers murdered Emmet, Fitzgerald, Tone,<br>We lived like men that watch a painted stage.<br>What matter for the scene, the scene once gone:<br>It had not touched our lives. But popular rage,<br>Hysterica passio dragged this quarry down.<br>None shared our guilt; nor did we play a part<br>Upon a painted stage when we devoured his heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Come, fix upon me that accusing eye.<br>I thirst for accusation. All that was sung.<br>All that was said in Ireland is a lie<br>Bred out of the c-ontagion of the throng,<br>Saving the rhyme rats hear before they die.<br>Leave nothing but the nothingS that belong<br>To this bare soul, let all men judge that can<br>Whether it be an animal or a man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The rest I pass, one sentence I unsay.<br>Had de Valera eaten parnell's heart<br>No loose-lipped demagogue had won the day.<br>No civil rancour torn the land apart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Had Cosgrave eaten parnell's heart, the land's<br>Imagination had been satisfied,<br>Or lacking that, government in such hands.<br>O'Higgins its sole statesman had not died.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Had even O'Duffy - but I name no more -<br>Their school a crowd, his master solitude;<br>Through Jonathan Swift's clark grove he passed, and there<br>plucked bitter wisdom that enriched his blood.</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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Under the Great Comedian's tomb the crowd.
A bundle of tempestuous cloud is blown
About the sky; where that is clear of cloud
Brightness remains; a brighter star shoots down;
What shudders run through all that animal blood?
What is this sacrifi..."></div>
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