Tag Archives: The Wild Swans at Coole

The Trees are in their Autumn Beauty ..

This often quoted line is from a poem by the much-loved Irish poet, William Butler Yeats, familiar to everyone who has passed through the Irish school system. We in Ireland do not always have as long and as beautiful an Autumn as we have been blessed with in 2014. The balmy mild and calm weather that has followed a beautiful long warm dry summer has added to the Autumn Beauty that we are now enjoying. These are snaps taken over an hour or so this afternoon, which I hope you might enjoy

These beauties are in the hedgerow at The Pike, near Ardagh, Co Limerick

Trees in Autumn glory at Adare,Co Limerick

image

 

These butter-yellow Acacias light up the main street in Adare

I really like these russet  beauties on the main street

Inside the town park, donated by the Dunraven family in the 1970s, there is a treasure trove of Autumn Beauty

And what a surprise to see these Autumn treasures! I love the tall toadstools, which I had not seen before.

Everywhere you look, Autumn lies in wait, so you need to look down too!

More in Adare town park

And finally, back in my own garden, a cherry wears her Autumn colours, bidding goodbye to the beautiful summer and Autumn that we have enjoyed!

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The Wild Swans at Coole by W.B Yeats

‘The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.

The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.

Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

 

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Filed under Ireland, Ireland Seasons, Irish Countryside

Heritage Week: W.B Yeats, Poet, in Drumcliffe

William Butler Yeats  (1865-1939) was one of Ireland’s best known and best-loved poets. One of the great advantages to living here in the mid-west of Ireland is that on  the 255 mile, 6 hour-long  trips back home to Donegal, the county of my childhood, I have to pass through Drumcliffe, in County Sligo. Drumcliffe is the burial  place of W.B .Yeats, and a mandatory coffee stop here down the years has now become a family tradition and marks our ‘arrival’ in the north-west.

Drumcliffechurch

Yeats was born in Dublin in 1865 but spent much of his childhood in Sligo. He loved the old celtic stories of Ireland and even though born into a Protestant family of Anglo Irish origin he became something of nationalist,advocating the use of the Irish language. In 1899 he co-founded the Abbey Theatre in Dublin. His love for Maud Gonne, an English-born Irish revolutionary, is legendary, having proposed to her and been refused 5 times in all.  In 1917, he married an English girl, half his age. Her name was Georgie Hyde-Lees, whom he called George.  They had a good marriage in spite of  the age difference. In 1922 he became a Senator serving two terms and in 1923 he became the first Irish winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature.  He died in 1939  in Roquebrune-Cap-MartinFrance . In 1948, his remains were brought home to Ireland by the Irish Naval Service and re-interred in Drumcliffe.

Yeats was a prolific writer, and has left us short stories,essays, collections of folk tales and myths as well as poetry. In the carpark  at Drumcliffe there is a wonderful interpretation of the Yeats poem, and one of my favourites, ‘He wishes for the Cloths of  Heaven’

ClothsofHeaven2

ClothsofHeaven1Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Yeats grave is very simple and is located near the door of the church, where his grandfather was once rector

Yeatsgrave Yeats had clearly expressed his wish to be buried here and dictated  the inscription on his headstone in the last stanza of his poem ‘Under Bare Ben Bulben’s Head’:

Under bare Ben Bulben’s head
In Drumcliff churchyard Yeats is laid.
An ancestor was rector there
Long years ago, a church stands near,
By the road an ancient cross.
No marble, no conventional phrase;
On limestone quarried near the spot
By his command these words are cut:

Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!

Ben Bulben is a magnificent mountain that dominates the landscape in this area for miles around. The beautiful St Columba’s Church in Drumcliffe lies beneath it, as can be seen in this photo taken from  his grave with Ben Bulbin in the background.BenBulbin

Among my personal favourites are those poems inspired by the great beauty of the countryside such as The Wild Swans at Coole ( which is in Co. Galway)

The  trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty Swans.

The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.

Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

Yeats love of swans is reflected in the beautiful door of the church

Drumcliffechurchdoor

Swans on the doors of the church –  I pulled them closed for a moment just to get a picture!  I know that somewhere I have more details on these doors, but cannot find it at the moment.

drumcliffedoordetailThe Wild Swans at Coole?

Drumcliffe is a lovely place – great coffee shop, a wonderful high cross and remains of an ancient round tower. If you drop by here, I can guarantee that it will instil at the very least a curiosity about our most wonderful poet.

WB_Yeats_nd

W.B Yeats.Poet, Essayist, Politician, Irishman . Image Wikimedia Commons.

W.B. Yeats  – a magnificent part of our Heritage!

References :

Wikipedia.org

http://www.online-literature.com/yeats/

Running to Paradise Poems by W.B Yeats   An Introductory selection  by Kevin Crossley-Holland

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Filed under Ireland, Irish Culture, Irish Heritage, Irish History