An Irish Airman Foresees His Death <br />by W.B. Yeats <br /><br />I know that I shall meet my fate <br />Somewhere among the clouds above; <br />Those that I fight I do not hate, <br />Those that I guard I do not love; <br />My country is Kiltartan Cross, <br />My countrymen Kiltartan's poor, <br />No likely end could bring them loss <br />Or leave them happier than before. <br />Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, <br />Nor public men, nor cheering crowds, <br />A lonely impulse of delight <br />Drove to this tumult in the clouds; <br />I balanced all, brought all to mind, <br />The years to come seemed waste of breath, <br />A waste of breath the years behind <br />In balance with this life, this death.
