At Dusk

Class assignment: Read only the first verse of Easter 1916 by Yeats, then write a continuation (without looking up the original). I have met them at close of day Coming with vivid faces From counter or desk among grey Eighteenth-century houses. I have passed with a nod of the head Or polite meaningless words, Or have lingered awhile and said Polite meaningless words, And thought before I had done Of a mocking tale or a gibe To please a companion Around the fire at the club, Being certain that they and I But lived where motley is worn: All changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born. I wandered a while, bereft of thought Through the spaces and crowds, In all that passed around me naught But a single whispering voice. “Where are you walking toward?” The windless mist grew heavy; Within the smiling, striding horde I smiled, directionless. The sun was set, and in its wake Stand wandering shadows, transfixed I could see only what I could make Of guts spilled on trampled bricks. “Oh, where are you going?” I asked From the mist there was no answer. No time, then, to mourn what is past A terrible beauty is born.