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by Christine

Death by W.B. Yeats

 20140928-IMG_8819-lowres

Death

Nor dread nor hope attend

A dying animal;

A man awaits his end.

Dreading and hoping all;

Many times he died,

Many times he rose again.

A great man in his pride

Confronting murderous men

Casts derision upon

Supersession of breath;

He knows death to the bone –

Man has created death.

Filed Under: Books & Reading Tagged With: death, poetry, Yeats

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Reader, writer, pontificator. I like coffee, gardens other people grow, the Sacraments, and hyperbole.

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