IN MEMORY OF EVA GORE-BOOTH AND CON MARKIEWICZ <br /> <br />THE light of evening, Lissadell, <br />Great windows open to the south, <br />Two girls in silk kimonos, both <br />Beautiful, one a gazelle. <br />But a raving autumn shears <br />Blossom from the summer's wreath; <br />The older is condemned to death, <br />Pardoned, drags out lonely years <br />Conspiring among the ignorant. <br />I know not what the younger dreams -- <br />Some vague Utopia -- and she seems, <br />When withered old and skeleton-gaunt, <br />An image of such politics. <br />Many a time I think to seek <br />One or the other out and speak <br />Of that old Georgian mansion, mix <br />pictures of the mind, recall <br />That table and the talk of youth, <br />Two girls in silk kimonos, both <br />Beautiful, one a gazelle. <br />Dear shadows, now you know it all, <br />All the folly of a fight <br />With a common wrong or right. <br />The innocent and the beautiful. <br />Have no enemy but time; <br />Arise and bid me strike a match <br />And strike another till time catch; <br />Should the conflagration climb, <br />Run till all the sages know. <br />We the great gazebo built, <br />They convicted us of guilt; <br />Bid me strike a match and blow.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-winding-stair-and-other-poems/
