the little folk and the embattled flaming multitude

 Well, it's a new year, and there's a new reading challenge I'm embarking on. The very first thing is to read eleven poems by a poet who's been highlighted on the Well-Read Poem podcast - I chose William Butler Yeats. 

I've never been much of a poetry person, but I think the influence of Gretchen, for one thing, has encouraged me; also, the two poetry podcasts I subscribe to - it does seem to grow on you. So I opened the poetry book of Yeats' work, and the very first one grabbed me. 

To Some I Have Talked with by the Fire

While I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes,
My heart would brim with dreams about the times
When we bent down above the fading coals;
And talked of the dark folk, who live in souls
Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;
And of the wayward twilight companies,
Who sigh with mingled sorrow and content,
Because their blossoming dreams have never bent
Under the fruit of evil and of good;
And of the embattled flaming multitude
Who rise, wing above wing, flame above flame,
And, like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name;
And with the clashing of their sword blades make
A rapturous music, till the morning break,
And the white hush end all, but the loud beat
Of their long wings, the flash of their white feet. 

Fantastic! Then I went to youtube, hoping to hear some recited by actors. Here's Sam Neill (why did I think he was American?). 

Yeats was really into the world of the little folk - well, I like the fairy folk myself. Except that after a while I wondered if he ever came back to earth. But I don't know anything about the man.