Creeds and Verses; or, Teasing

No reward but the fee,
No rule but success,
No attachments,
just employers and targets.

When Honesty is False,
When Laughter is Cruel,
When Generosity is Covetous,
When Kindness is Harsh,
When Loyalty is Unfaithful,
How can Friendship be anything but Dead?

O what fine thought we had because we thought
That the worst rogues and rascals had died out.
All teeth were drawn, all ancient tricks unlearned,
And a great army but a showy thing...
We pieced out thoughts into philosophy,
And planned to bring the world under a rule,
Who are but weasels fighting in a hole...
Whether health, wealth or peace of mind were spent
On master-work of intellect or hand,
No honour leave its mighty monument,
Has but one comfort left: all triumph would
But break upon his ghostly solitude.
- "Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen," William Butler Yeats

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity...
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?
- "The Second Coming," also by Yeats

Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of my 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?
- "Easter, 1916," again by W. B. Yeats

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