Byzantium

The unpurged images of day recede1；
The Emperors drunken soldiery are abed；

Night resonance2 recedes3， night-walkers song

After great cathedral gong；

A starlit or a moonlit dome4 disdains5

All that man is，

All mere6 complexities7，

The fury and the mire8 of human veins9.

Before me floats an image， man or shade，

Shade more than man， more image than a shade；

For Hades bobbin bound in mummy-cloth

May unwind the winding10 path；

A mouth that has no moisture and no breath

Breathless mouths may summon；

I hail the superhuman；

I call it death-in-life and life-in-death.

Miracle， bird or golden handiwork，

More miracle than bird or handiwork，

Planted on the star-lit golden bough11，

Can like the cocks of Hades crow，

Or， by the moon embittered12， scorn aloud

In glory of changeless metal

Common bird or petal13

And all complexities of mire or blood.

At midnight on the Emperors pavement flit

Flames that no faggot feeds， nor steel has lit，

Nor storm disturbs， flames begotten14 of flame，

Where blood-begotten spirits come

And all complexities of fury leave，

Dying into a dance，

An agony of trance，

An agony of flame that cannot singe15 a sleeve.

Astraddle on the dolphins mire and blood，

Spirit after spirit！ The smithies break the flood，

The golden smithies of the Emperor！

Marbles of the dancing floor

Break bitter furies of complexity16，

Those images that yet

Fresh images beget17，

That dolphin-torn， that gong-tormented sea.