Poem: Yeates Sailing to Byzantium 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 That is no country for old men.

The young In one anothers arms, birds in the trees --Those dying generationsat their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever s begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unaging intellect. An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick, unless Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing For every tatter in its mortal dress, Nor is there singing school but studying Monuments of its own magnificence; And therefore I have sailed the seas and come To the holy city of Byzantium

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O sages standing in Gods holy fire As in the gold mosaic of a wall, Come from the holy fire, perne in gyre, And be the singing-masters of my soul. Consume my heart away; sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal. It knows not what it is; and gather me Into artifice of eternity. Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make Of hammered gold and gold enameling To keep a drowsy Emperor awake; Or set upon a golden bough to sing To lords and ladies of Byzantium Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

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That is no country for old men. The young In one anothers arms, birds in the trees --Those dying generations at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect, Monuments of unaging intellect. An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick, unless Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing For every tatter in its mortal dress, Nor is there singing school but studying Monuments of its own magnificence; And therefore I have sailed the seas and come To the holy city of Byzantium

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O sages standing in Gods holy fire As in the gold mosaic of a wall, Come from the holy fire, perne in gyre, And be the singing-masters of my soul. Consume my heart away; sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal. It knows not what it is; and gather me Into artifice of eternity. Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make Of hammered gold and gold enameling To keep a drowsy Emperor awake; Or set upon a golden bough to sing To lords and ladies of Byzantium Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

Rhyme Scheme: Stanza 1: ABABACDD Stanza 2: ABABACDD Stanza 3: ABACABDD Stanza 4: ABABABCC Literary Device: In this piece of poetry one of the most important literary devices is metaphor. Stanza 1: monuments of unaging intellect. the old generations. Stanza 2: A tattered coat upon a stick.. an old, worn out man. Stanza 3: ..a dying animal, the aging body. Each describing a decrepit figure without long to stand against time.
ALSO: Stanza 1: fish, flesh or fowl alliteration, sensual music youth/liveliness Stanza 3: gyre spiral symbolism,

Tone: Wistful but still hopeful.

Examples: ..is but a paltry thing.. But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make

Theme: With age comes wisdom, a heavy heart and tired soul. Though the heart and soul can be lifted up, the body will still go to the earth.
INTERESTING FACT: This poem closely mimics the poetic form of the Italian epics of the day , (ottava rima ) which could imply that the speaker sees this process of aging as a great battle and the search for a youthful soul as a heroic quest.