Poetry, music, I have loved, and yet
Because of those new dead
That come into my soul and escape
Confusion of the bed,
Or those begotten or unbegotten
Perning in a band,
I bend my body to the spade
Or grope with a dirty hand.

Or those begotten or unbegotten,
For I would not recall
Some that being unbegotten
Are not individual,
But copy some one action,
Moulding it of dust or sand,
I bend my body to the spade
Or grope with a dirty hand.

An old ghost's thoughts are lightning,
To follow is to die;
Poetry and music I have banished,
But the stupidity
Of root, shoot, blossom or clay
Makes no demand.
I bend my body to the spade
Or grope with a dirty hand.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 2443 times | Comments (0)

Poet: William Butler Yeats
Poem: The Spirit Medium
Volume: New Poems
Year: Published/Written in 1938
There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, The Spirit Medium, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by William Butler Yeats with others on the Poetry Connection poetry forum!