Under bare Ben Bulben’s head
In Drumcliff churchyard Yeats is laid.
An ancestor was rector there
Long years ago, a church stands near,
By the road an ancient cross.
No marble, no conventional phrase;
On limestone quarried near the spot
By his command these words are cut:
Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!
—William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)
“Under bare Ben Bulben’s head,” from Last Poems, 1938–1939
*I’ve used two different poems here; the title is from Yeats’s “I Am of Ireland.”
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