I 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
But 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 wingèd 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, vainglorious 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 they 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;
The 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.
O 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;
Was 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.
'Easter, 1916': Summary
Pro tip: When beginning to analyze a poem, objectively summarize each stanza. Notice images that stand out and highlight them, but don't go into depth analyzing them yet. Have a good, practical understanding of what the poem is saying.
Stanza One: The first stanza describes everyday life of Dublin, where many of the revolutionaries from the Easter Uprising lived. This stanza is very concerned with the mundane city life experience of passing people, exchanging pleasantries, and seeing them in common social settings, such as "the club" (line 12). The speaker's tone is very matter of fact in this stanza. We do not see the turn to the refrain "a terrible beauty is born" until the last lines of the stanza (line 16). A notable image from this stanza includes the motely worn by those in the streets.
Stanza Two: After we are introduced to the day-to-day life of Dublin, we learn a bit more about the people that participated in the Uprising. We first see a woman with a sweet voice riding to harriers, then an artist that could have won fame with his "sensitive nature", then a man who the speaker clearly dislikes. The third person in the stanza is referred to as a "drunken, vainglorious lout", but the speaker notes that even he is "number[ed] [in the] song" (lines 32-35). We then, again, get the refrain "a terrible beauty is born" but the penultimate line of the stanza states "transformed utterly", describing the disheartening and horrific impact of the Uprising on these people (lines 39-40).
Fig. 2 - "Riding to harriers" is a British phrase meaning to go hunting, especially for rabbits, on horseback.
After the Uprising, all people with Irish pride were transformed for the worse because these leaders and revolutionaries were lost. Some notable images in this stanza include the Pegasus or "wingèd horse", which could be used to describe a poet, as the Pegasus commonly represented poets in Greek mythology. (line 25).
Stanza Three: This stanza is where we really begin to see the natural imagery. The stanza begins with the seasons moving, a stone in a river, horses, birds, and clouds. The stanza is composed almost entirely of natural images that change (the clouds, the water, the seasons) all juxtaposed or contrasted with the stationary and immovable stone.
The pastoral imagery and metaphor present in this stanza and throughout the poem represents the familiarity and resolve of the Irish people defending their homeland. The stone in the stream, for example, represents the resolve of the rebels and, despite the fact that the river flows around it unimpeded, the resolve is not shaken by the forces moving against it.
"A terrible Beauty is Born" micro-analysis: W. B. Yeats repeated the refrain "A terrible beauty is born" in all stanzas except the third. Why the deviation from the refrain? The third stanza concentrates on the consistency and determination of the rebel cause during the Easter Uprising through the symbol of the stone. The deviation from the refrain allows the immovable nature of the stone to stand out even further.
Additionally, "A terrible beauty is born" is an oxymoronic phrase that is one of Yeats' most famous. "Terrible" and "beauty" can be seen as opposite phrases in this line, seemingly contradictory to one another. The horrific events of the Easter Rising can be described as "terrible", but the strength of heart of those who led the cause is "beautiful".
This plays into the concept of the sublime, a commonly explored concept of the time. When one is experiencing the sublime, there is tension present between the smallness of the human self and body, and the vastness of the universe, which can be both horrific and blissful.
Oxymoron is a literary device that can instil conflicting emotions in the readers of a text, and Yeats is almost certainly employing it as such in 'Easter, 1916'.
Stanza Four: The image of the stone is carried into the first two lines of stanza four. The meaning of this stone, originally standing for determination, now stands for bitterness upon failure.
The river continued to flow around the stone despite its resolve, representing the ways in which the cause was unsuccessful. We then go on to see some images of nightfall and religious language. The stanza then begins asking questions about death and pondering the realities of the losses that occurred during the Uprising.
The speaker is contemplative and makes it clear with this questioning that they are not certain the loss was worth the gain. But then the speaker goes on to say, "we know their dream", bringing the poem back to a place of admiration for those lost during the insurrection (line 69).
Yeats includes, in this stanza, four names of his friends who were lost due to the battle, through the fighting or executions. The closing image of the poem is wearing green (traditionally the color of Ireland) and states that all those who wear green are "changed, changed utterly" as a result of this conflict and loss (78-79).
Yeats was popular for his ability to create meaningful form in his poetry. Stanzas 1-4 are composed of alternating 16- and 24-line stanzas. Stanzas one and three were perhaps reminiscent of both the year 1916 and the 16 people who were executed by England after the Uprising. Stanzas two and four were written in 24-line stanzas, reminiscent of the date of the Uprising, April 24, 1916.
'Easter, 1916': Themes
There are many themes in the poem 'Easter, 1916'. Here, we will concentrate on a few prevalent themes, some of which recur in other texts by Yeats.
Heroism
It is clear that 'Easter, 1916' is interested in the analysis of heroism. Throughout the poem, we see examples of the speaker being uncertain if the sacrifice of those who lost their lives to the Uprising was worth it. In the final stanza, the speaker questions these things:
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name ...
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was 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?
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