brimful of starlight


I PASSED along the water's edge below the humid trees,
My spirit rocked in evening light,
the rushes round my knees,

and saw the moorfowl pace
All dripping on a grassy slope,
and saw them cease to chase
Each other round in circles,
and heard the eldest speak:
Who holds the world between His bill
and made us strong or weak
Is an undying moorfowl,
and He lives beyond the sky.
The rains are from His dripping wing,
the moonbeams from His eye.

Who made the world and ruleth it,
He hangeth on a stalk,
For I am in His image made,
and all this tinkling tide
Is but a sliding drop of rain
between His petals wide.

a roebuck raised his eyes
Brimful of starlight, and he said: The Stamper of the Skies,
He is a gentle roebuck;
for how else, I pray, could He
Conceive a thing so sad and soft, a gentle thing like me?

and heard a peacock say:
Who made the grass and made the worms and made my feathers gay,

His languid tail above us, lit with myriad spots of light.
William Butler Yeats

Labels: carl moser, edmund dulac, liberty co, max unold, poetry, sam longley, theo van hoytema, william butler yeats
4 Comments:
That is very interesting. You must be reading a biography of him.
no, i'm not. but that poem made me feel drunken, and i needed to look that up. it is interesting, isn't it
I love this blog!
thanks! :^)
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hi, and thanks so much for stopping by. i spend all too much time thinking my own thoughts about this stuff, so please tell me yours. i thrive on the exchange!
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