In Memory of W.B. Yeats Art and Culture Quotes

Poetry, unlike individual human beings, persists as long as there are readers and thinkers around.  It doesn't change.  And, unlike humans, it can take whatever shape its readers want it to.

Auden balances Yeats's humanity (read: mistakes) against his "gift," his writing.  Notice how the word "gift" invokes a very traditional sense of poetic genius. Wordsworth and Byron had it; Yeats has it too. In one stroke, Auden discusses Yeats's downfalls and aligns him with the greats of the poetry world. Not bad, eh?

If you remember one thing from this poem, it'll be line 37. Believe us, you'll hear it again.  What does poetry make? Nothing.  But is that "poetry doesn't make anything"? Or is it that poetry carves out a space (a "no-thing") that no other form of communication can express? Hmm. Deep thoughts, folks.

When everything else in the world is isolating and frozen and uncaring, poetry seems to have a way of moving between people and things and unlocking feelings. But can one little poem really do all that work? Auden sure thinks it can.  Poetry seems to have its own energy in this passage, a motion that's inherent in its form.

What makes a good poem? Well, for one thing, a grounding in reality. This isn't a time for sunshine and flowers. It's an unhappy time – and this poem (like Yeats's) takes stock of that. But it also manages to transform barrenness into something fruitful (that's the whole "vineyard of the curse" thing).

As this poem grows, poetry's power seems to crescendo as well. We admit that sounds a little Power Ranger-y. But fountains of knowledge and verse? That can't be all bad.