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W. B. Yeats

An Irish Airman Foresees His Death

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

About the poet
W. B. Yeats
 
By the same poet
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
When You Are Old
Where My Books Go
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
The Song of Wandering Aengus
The Second Coming
Sailing to Byzantium
The Scholars
Long-Legged Fly
Byzantium
Memory
The Fascination of What’s Difficult
The Great Day
The Circus Animals’ Desertion
Vacillation
 
Related books
W. B. Yeats at amazon.co.uk


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