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<p>[QUOTE=&quot;afantiques, post: 17253, member: 25&quot;]One of my favorite poems is a bit &#039;rougher&#039; than that.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>The Second Coming</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p>Turning and turning in the widening gyre</p><p>The falcon cannot hear the falconer;</p><p>Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;</p><p>Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,</p><p>The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere</p><p>The ceremony of innocence is drowned;</p><p>The best lack all conviction, while the worst</p><p>Are full of passionate intensity.</p><p><br /></p><p>Surely some revelation is at hand;</p><p>Surely the Second Coming is at hand.</p><p>The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out</p><p>When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi</p><p>Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert</p><p>A shape with lion body and the head of a man,</p><p>A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,</p><p>Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it</p><p>Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.</p><p>The darkness drops again; but now I know</p><p>That twenty centuries of stony sleep</p><p>Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,</p><p>And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,</p><p>Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?[/QUOTE]</p><p><br /></p>

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