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A Dialogue Of Self And Soul Analysis



Author: poem of William Butler Yeats Type: poem Views: 21

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My Soul. I summon to the winding ancient stair;

Set all your mind upon the steep ascent,

Upon the broken, crumbling battlement,

Upon the breathless starlit air,

"Upon the star that marks the hidden pole;

Fix every wandering thought upon

That quarter where all thought is done:

Who can distinguish darkness from the soul



My Self.  The consecretes blade upon my knees

Is Sato's ancient blade, still as it was,

Still razor-keen, still like a looking-glass

Unspotted by the centuries;

That flowering, silken, old embroidery, torn

From some court-lady's dress and round

The wodden scabbard bound and wound

Can, tattered, still protect, faded adorn



My Soul. Why should the imagination of a man

Long past his prime remember things that are

Emblematical of love and war?

Think of ancestral night that can,

If but imagination scorn the earth

And interllect is wandering

To this and that and t'other thing,

Deliver from the crime of death and birth.



My Self. Montashigi, third of his family, fashioned it

Five hundred years ago, about it lie

Flowers from I know not what embroidery -

Heart's purple - and all these I set

For emblems of the day against the tower

Emblematical of the night,

And claim as by a soldier's right

A charter to commit the crime once more.



My Soul. Such fullness in that quarter overflows

And falls into the basin of the mind

That man is stricken deaf and dumb and blind,

For intellect no longer knows

Is from the Ought, or knower from the Known -

That is to say, ascends to Heaven;

Only the dead can be forgiven;

But when I think of that my tongue's a stone.



II



My Self. A living man is blind and drinks his drop.

What matter if the ditches are impure?

What matter if I live it all once more?

Endure that toil of growing up;

The ignominy of boyhood; the distress

Of boyhood changing into man;

The unfinished man and his pain

Brought face to face with his own clumsiness;



The finished man among his enemies? -

How in the name of Heaven can he escape

That defiling and disfigured shape

The mirror of malicious eyes

Casts upon his eyes until at last

He thinks that shape must be his shape?

And what's the good of an escape

If honour find him in the wintry blast?



I am content to live it all again

And yet again, if it be life to pitch

Into the frog-spawn of a blind man's ditch,

A blind man battering blind men;

Or into that most fecund ditch of all,

The folly that man does

Or must suffer, if he woos

A proud woman not kindred of his soul.



I am content to follow to its source

Every event in action or in thought;

Measure the lot; forgive myself the lot!

When such as I cast out remorse

So great a sweetness flows into the breast

We must laugh and we must sing,

We are blest by everything,

Everything we look upon is blest.                                  






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||| Analysis | Critique | Overview Below |||

.: :.

Golden sunsets and Golden Retrievers. Takes awlihe for them to dry out. Give your Grade A, Golden hubby a hug from us for sharing you with the world. Have a lovely day. Aloha, DrumMajor x x

| Posted on 2013-11-16 | by a guest


.: :.

L. Dwayne DeckerHow do you live so that you can meet your eventual end with grace? Old Grimm Reaper is one of my frndies I hang an effigy of him on my bedroom door; I greet him as I go to bed each night. I do not fear Death for my friend, the Reaper, will be there to lead me graciously through the Gateway; and on, into the Life beyond.Blessings!Dwayne

| Posted on 2013-11-14 | by a guest


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sv: jeg vet, men jeg syns ikke det er det stf8rste problemet se5 lenge man lnekir til fotografen. spesielt ikke hvis de har bildene e5pne for nedlasting. men jeg forste5r hva du mener :)Siste blogginnlegg fra tinekatrine:

| Posted on 2013-11-10 | by a guest


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In the first stanza the Soul calls the reader to the tower of learning where “the star,” the most distant part of our universe, “marks the hidden pole.” The soul seems to be talking about the contemplation of eternity. On the other hand, the poem itself seems to imply that the soul’s goal is so vague as to be virtually unknowable. “Thought,” as represented by the tower, cannot distinguish “darkness from the soul.” In a later poem Yeats says the tower is “half dead at the top.” If we see the tower as an individual, as a source of knowledge, this would seem to imply that there is no more original thought there. If, on the other hand, we see the tower as a phallic symbol, it has become impotent.
posted by:Kurdish guy, B.A.M From college of language(Hawler)2010.

| Posted on 2010-03-24 | by a guest


.: :.

As Yeats matures in life, the focus goes from what the wotld is doing and what he can do. In other words, he focuses on the meaning of his life, this is shown in the poem a Dialogue of Self and Soul. A dialogue of Self amd Soul is broken down into two parts. The first part is the actuall dialogue between self and soul. The soul is driven by the past or acient events. The self is the reaction to the soul. In this poem Yeats soul can be describe as " think of ancestral knight, that can, if but imagination scorn the earth and infellect its wondering." The self of Yeats in this play is describe as " the wooden scabbard found and wound, can, tattered, still protect, faded adorn." In the second part of this poem his self is only expressed. The self and soul have become a whole. You can conclude from this poem that a person has matured,self-actualization is obtained. For example, in this poem Yeats says " I am content to follow to its source every event in action or in though; measure the lot; forgive myself the lot!"

| Posted on 2009-03-16 | by a guest




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