A Spot of Yeats

I love Yeats, and have done since I was a child. I thought immediately of his lines on the weasel's twist and tooth the other day on reading of those fighting in the hold of the Hamas ship, and in general have been bringing him to mind. These two seem appropriate to some of our troubles today, but then again, poetry is always appropriate, should you want a utilitarian justification for it.

The first poem is 'Amongst School Children'. The second is a matter of confession; I distinctly remember the first time that I recited it to myself, in my mind, whole, and it was one when I should not have been thinking of it at all. I was seventeen or so, and at home in Our Lady's Church in Corby, in the communion line, and my mind should have been on higher things. Still, at least it wasn't one of those narrative doggerels I love, like Lepanto.

In other news, Garry Wills seems to have come out completely against a celibacy rule (rather than option) for priests, and has produced a columnm on it here, which I am turning over in my mind. Yeats was such a mix of high and base concerns; they say he walked around Dublin with his head in the air, thinking of the monkey gland serum he eventually treated himself with to get his mojo back. And Plato. That sort of confused combination when his mind should have been on something else would never have happened if he had been a Catholic man, or, say, me, since I am a model of consistency after all....


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