xt7qjq0stw34_4342 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474.dao.xml unknown archival material 1997ms474 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. W. Hugh Peal manuscript collection W. B. Yeats signature and signed quotation text 43.94 Cubic Feet 86 boxes, 4 oversize boxes, 22 items Poor-Good Peal accession no. 11453. W. B. Yeats signature and signed quotation 2017 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474/Box_42/Folder_90/Multipage14766.pdf 1915 January, undated 1915 1915 January, undated 
  Scope and Contents
  
Peal accession no. 11456. Accompanied by a clippings from The New Statesman from October 23, 1920, with Yeats poem, "Easter, 1916".
 section false xt7qjq0stw34_4342 xt7qjq0stw34  

  

  

 

 80 THE NEW STATE SMAN

OCTOBER ‘ .3, 1920

 

(” Sir Jeffery Chaucer”), Cardan, Jovianus Pontanus,
Philippus Beroaldus, that great Bononian doctor (I quote
remembered names at random)—does not hide his original
mind. For him books are things as living as men and trees,
and to quote them and draw lessons from them is as natural
as it is for a decorative painter to borrow motives from
nature; he turns to them as a poet might to the clouds
or the flowers to furnish an added vividncss to his thought.
It is his thought, and the quotations are mere embellishment.
His very method of translating his Latin citations is incli-
vidual. He seldom gives a literal rendering, but rather an
incisive paraphrase—absque mgenlo omnlia tuna, hang him
that hath no money; mala mans malus mzinms, ill disposi-
tions breed ill suspitions and occasionally he deliberately
plays the fool; iim'iz‘as Oilhmn parit, verjuicc and oatmeal is
good for a parret. He writes as he spoke, he himself tells
us, and his own vigorous and unaffected phrase, his sudden
questions to the reader and assumptions that the reader has
questioned him, his abruptly interjected approvals and
condemnations, give an extraordinarily vivid and personal
impression. ” Old men, that have more toes than teeth ” ;
“ heroic lovers, who will, for their mistress, flap down men
like flies ”; “ as much pitty is to be taken of a woman
weeping as of a goose going bare foot ” ; ” she looks like a

squis’d eat ”#this is not the language of a man who quotes

for lack of a graphic word of his own.

To read either at a stretch, or to open at random in the
odd half—hour between the end of the evening’s work and
bed, there is no wiser or pleasanter book for him who prefers
a slight tartness to undiluted sweet. But you cannot take
him comfortably to bed with you; you must have Burton
in a decent sized volume, a volume of weight. Pocket
. editions are well suited to some authors, tolerable for others,
but for the Anatomy as absurd as a refectory table in the
tiny dining-room of a modern flat. You must have the

~frentispiece, with Demoeritus and Dcmocritus Junior, the '-

.borage and hellebore, the lover, the student, and all the
other symbols. Decent enough editions were published in
two volumes in the early years of the nineteenth century.
In modern times we have the three volume edition published
by Bells, now out of print, but even so these volumes are
somewhat too new. The early folios are the thing to get——
it is not generally known that the first edition was a quarto-—
and these are not out of reach of modest means. My copy
of the fifth edition, corrected and augmented by the author
and published in 1638, did not cost three pounds.
E. N. DA C. ANDRADE.

EASTER, r 9 I 6

HAVE met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
3ut lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.

That woman’s days were spent
In ignorant good will,

Her nights in argument

Until her voice grew shrill.

What voice more sweet than hers
When young and beautiful,

She rode to harriers ?

This man had kept a school

And rode our winged horse.

This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;

He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vain-glorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part

In the casual comedy; ‘
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly :

A terrible beauty is born.

Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter, seem
Enchanted to a stone

To trouble the living stream.

The horse that comes from the road,
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute change;

A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;

A horse—hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it
Where long—legged moor—hens dive,
And hens to moor—cocks call.
Minute by minute they live:

The stone’s in the midst of all.

Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
0 when may it suffice?
That is heaven’s part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
XVas it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead.
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse——

MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.

W. B. YEA'rs.