Yeats sees the sphinx rising up to bring forth the end of the world.
Spiritus Mundi brings an image of the sphinx to Yeats' mind. Nevertheless, I believe Spiritus Mundi leads Yeats to propose that perhaps the Second Coming (of Christ) is near at hand: Judgement Day. Spiritus Mundi is literally "Spirit of the World." In order to avoid making another stupid mistake, I will refrain from comment on the meaning of Spiritus Mundi for the time-being. I must have been severely confused (and have a memory lapse) when I wrote that, because the text that deals with the art of dying well is in fact "Ars Moriendi". It is essentially "the art of dying well." At this point, I must offer sincere apologies. The ruthless power mongers were outspoken and numerous, and there seemed to be few who dared to speak out against them in the name of peace.Īt one point, I had stated here that Spiritus Mundi is a Medieval text for Christians, to inform them what they need to do to die in the grace of God. In the time that Yeats speaks of, the rulers of the world were caught up in imperialism and expanding circles of power to the point where they would do almost anything to accomplish their goals. The world had never seen destruction of the likes of World War I, and most people were shocked at the extensive loss of human life during the war. Yeats shows his concern that technology has advanced to the point where mankind can do a great deal of harm with relative ease. The problem was evident to Yeats 80 years ago, and the problem has worsened since then. Line 2 hints at technology progressing beyond mankind's ability to control it. Yeats saw great social troubles all around him, and remarks on a world spinning out of control. This was surely an important factor for him in writing the poem. Yeats wrote The Second Coming while Europe and much of the rest of the world was trying to recover from World War I. Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,Īnd what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desertĪ shape with lion body and the head of a man, The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out The best lack all conviction, while the worst The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere Things fall apart the centre cannot hold
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