|
His chosen comrades thought at school
He must grow a famous man;
He thought the same and lived by rule,
All his twenties crammed with toil;
'What then?' sang Plato's ghost. 'What then?'
Everything he wrote was read,
After certain years he won
Sufficient money for his need,
Friends that have been friends indeed;
'What then?' sang Plato's ghost. ' What then?'
All his happier dreams came true -
A small old house, wife, daughter, son,
Grounds where plum and cabbage grew,
poets and Wits about him drew;
'What then.?' sang Plato's ghost. 'What then?'
The work is done,' grown old he thought,
'According to my boyish plan;
Let the fools rage, I swerved in naught,
Something to perfection brought';
But louder sang that ghost, 'What then?'
|
W.B. Yates, apparently from his poem, "What Then," was a concieted young man who felt himself superior from an early age. He applied himself and proofed his point, and that of others. His early years were productive of good, well respected writings. He was read widely, made money, and won prizes; the Nobel among them. Friends were more friendly still. He found in life, if not the exact things he wanted, then fine substitutes. He finished his life-work, grew old, feeling he had fulfilled his ambitions. He maintained his own integrity and lived life to his own liking. He cared little what others thought; that was their concern--not his. But with all his wonderous art, in the end it seemed to him to have come to naught. Being without true religion, and lacking in superstition--there was no satisfaction. And like Plato, the philospher--Yates wondered what was it all about? What was the point? Wouldn't everything come to naught?
Lowell M. Wiley from United States