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Those Dancing Days Are Gone Analysis
Author: poem of William Butler Yeats Type: poem Views: 23
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Come, let me sing into your ear;
Those dancing days are gone,
All that silk and satin gear;
Crouch upon a stone,
Wrapping that foul body up
In as foul a rag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.
Curse as you may I sing it through;
What matter if the knave
That the most could pleasure you,
The children that he gave,
Are somewhere sleeping like a top
Under a marble flag?
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.
I thought it out this very day.
Noon upon the clock,
A man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and sing until he drop,
Whether to maid or hag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup,
The moon in a silver bag.
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This poem is so esoteric. To me there are so many allusions to Satanic worship. In the 70's I was presented with a prize on the BBC 2 arts programme 'REVIEW' by the late Sir Lennox Berkeley for setting this poem to music. As a naïve yound composer I had no idea then what this poem was about, but the flow of Yates symbolic words captured my musical creativity. Older and wiser, and knowing more of Yates life, I am convinced of the Satanic symbolism of the poem.
| Posted on 2015-08-30 | by a guest
This poem is so esoteric. To me there are so many allusions to Satanic worship. In the 70's I was presented with a prize on the BBC 2 arts programme 'REVIEW' by the late Sir Lennox Berkeley for setting this poem to music. As a naïve yound composer I had no idea then what this poem was about, but the flow of Yates symbolic words captured my musical creativity. Older and wiser, and knowing more of Yates life, I am convinced of the Satanic symbolism of the poem.
| Posted on 2015-08-30 | by a guest
.: Analysis of Yeats poem :.
The poet seems to be evoking the power of poetry, or the blissful elation of thoughtful beauty as opposed to the beauty of youthful agility, in the face of the loss of said agility. So, listen to the song, crouch on a hard stone chair, wrap your aging body in an aged rag, and listen to the grand beauty which is still and always present in the words and thoughts of elated existence.
Yeats says:
"A man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and sing until he drop,"
As in, while an old decrepit man may be, well, old and decrepit, he no longer needs care about the impression he leaves, the judgments he encounters, he may not have the legs to dance, but he has the voice to sing and is free from chains of pretense which we cling to in youth, trying to maintain an edficie, he is free to sing as long and loudly as he wants.
| Posted on 2008-05-20 | by a guest
The poet seems to be evoking the power of poetry, or the blissful elation of thoughtful beauty as opposed to the beauty of youthful agility, in the face of the loss of said agility. So, listen to the song, crouch on a hard stone chair, wrap your aging body in an aged rag, and listen to the grand beauty which is still and always present in the words and thoughts of elated existence.
Yeats says:
"A man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and sing until he drop,"
As in, while an old decrepit man may be, well, old and decrepit, he no longer needs care about the impression he leaves, the judgments he encounters, he may not have the legs to dance, but he has the voice to sing and is free from chains of pretense which we cling to in youth, trying to maintain an edficie, he is free to sing as long and loudly as he wants.
| Posted on 2008-05-20 | by a guest
.: Analysis of Yeats poem :.
The poet seems to be evoking the power of poetry, or the blissful elation of thoughtful beauty as opposed to the beauty of youthful agility, in the face of the loss of said agility. So, listen to the song, crouch on a hard stone chair, wrap your aging body in an aged rag, and listen to the grand beauty which is still and always present in the words and thoughts of elated existence.
Yeats says:
"A man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and sing until he drop,"
As in, while an old decrepit man may be, well, old and decrepit, he no longer needs care about the impression he leaves, the judgments he encounters, he may not have the legs to dance, but he has the voice to sing and is free from chains of pretense which we cling to in youth, trying to maintain an edficie, he is free to sing as long and loudly as he wants.
| Posted on 2008-05-20 | by a guest
The poet seems to be evoking the power of poetry, or the blissful elation of thoughtful beauty as opposed to the beauty of youthful agility, in the face of the loss of said agility. So, listen to the song, crouch on a hard stone chair, wrap your aging body in an aged rag, and listen to the grand beauty which is still and always present in the words and thoughts of elated existence.
Yeats says:
"A man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and sing until he drop,"
As in, while an old decrepit man may be, well, old and decrepit, he no longer needs care about the impression he leaves, the judgments he encounters, he may not have the legs to dance, but he has the voice to sing and is free from chains of pretense which we cling to in youth, trying to maintain an edficie, he is free to sing as long and loudly as he wants.
| Posted on 2008-05-20 | by a guest