William Butler YEATS (1865-1939) Although I shelter from the rain Under a broken tree My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics Ere Time transfigured me. Though lads are making pikes again For some conspiracy, And crazy rascals rage their fill At human tyranny, My contemplations are of Time That has transfigured me. There's not a woman turns her face Upon a broken tree, And yet the beauties that I loved Are in my memory; I spit into the face of Time That has transfigured me. Notes & References ere: before (conj.) pike: a weapon consisting of a pointed blade on the end of a long pole (n.) transfigure: completely transform into something else Summary on Youth and Age Life is a journey from womb to tomb. A person has to pass different phases of life throughout his life. A child of yesterday becomes a young man today, and will be called an old tomorrow. Eventually, s/he disapp...
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