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HANSON YeatsAmongSchool 1973
HANSON YeatsAmongSchool 1973
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Yeats:
'Among School Children'
I V
I walk through the long schoolroom questioning: What youthful mother, a shape upon her lap
A kind old nun in a white hood replies; Honey of generation had betrayed,
The children learn to cipher and to sing, And that must sleep, shriek, struggle to escape
To study reading books and histories, As recollection or the drug decide,
To cut and sew, be neat in everything Would think her son, did she but see that shape
In the best modern way - the children's eyes With sixty or more winters on its head,
In momentary wonder stare upon A compensation for the pang of his birth,
A sixty-year-old smiling public man. Or the uncertainty of his setting forth?
II VI
I dream of a Ledaean body, bent Plato thought nature but a spume that plays
Above a sinking fire, a tale that she Upon a ghostly paradigm of things;
Told of a harsh reproof, or trivial event Solider Aristotle played the taws
That changed some childish day to tragedy - Upon the bottom of a king of kings;
Told, and it seemed that our two natures blent World-famous golden-thighed Pythagoras
Into a sphere from youthful sympathy, Fingered upon a fiddle-stick or strings
Or eke, to alter Plato's parable, What a star sang and careless Muses heard:
Into the yolk and white of the one shell. Old clothes upon old sticks to scare a bird.
III VII
And thinking of that fit of grief or rage Both nuns and mothers worship images,
I look upon one child or t'other there But those the candles light are not as those
And wonder if she stood so at that age - That animate a mother's reveries,
For even daughters of the swan can share But keep a marble or a bronze repose.
Something of every paddler's heritage - And yet they too break hearts - О Presences
And had that colour upon cheek or hair, That passion, piety or affection knows,
And thereupon my heart is driven wild: And that all heavenly glory symbolise -
She stands before me as a living child. О self-born mockers of man's enterprise;
IV VIII
Her present image floats into the mind - Labour is blossoming or dancing where
Did Quattrocento finger fashion it The body is not bruised to pleasure soul,
Hollow of cheek as though it drank the wind Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
And took a mess of shadows for its meat ? Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
And I though never of Ledaean kind О chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,
Had pretty plumage once - enough of that, Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole ?
Better to smile on all that smile, and show О body swayed to music, О brightening glance,
There is a comfortable kind of old scarecrow. How can we know the dancer from the dance ?
Here, half-way through the poem, there is a emphasized by a sudden change of movement
major change of direction. The first half of the and tempo ; in place of the gradually unfolding
sentence of V we have a briskly definite series
poem is concerned with an immediate personal
of statements: 'Plato thought..' 'Solider
experience and a response to it, with what the
Aristotle played the taws . .' In fact, there is a
'I' of the poem saw and felt. The second half
clearly logical connection: these are answers
expands into more general considerations set that have been given in the past to the
under way by that personal experience, rising questions adumbrated in Stanza V, general
from it and shaped by it. The one sentence answers, not particular or personal. Yeats
that constitutes stanza V, in its leisureliness points us in the direction of various philo-
moves us away from the rapidly changing sophical explanations of the nature of the
Further Reading: For the text of Yeats, Collected Poems and Collected Plays , London, 1950 and 1952 are standa
most easily accessible life is that by Joseph Hone, W. B, Teats , London, 1942, now in Pelican Biographies.
a vast critical literature, but probably the best way in to a thorough study of Yeats is by means of Richard K
two books Teats, the Man and the Masks , London, 1949, and The Identity of Teats , London, 1954; both are
in paperback. Louis MacNeice's The Poetry of W. B. Teats , London, 1 941, is interesting as the reaction of one
another. There is a useful Reader's Guide to W. В . Teats, by John Unterecker, London, 1959. Many of the best
essays are collected in Penguin Critical Anthologies' W . В . Teats > ed. W. H. Pritchard. I would particula
your attention to Yvor Winters' essay in this collection: it contains an uninhibited piece of hatchet-work o
School Children' that would leave the most imperceptive of readers thoroughly aware that he doesn't like