the second coming - john tavener lyrics
turning and turning in the widening gyre
the falcon cannot hear the falconer;
things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
the blood*dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
the ceremony of innocence is drowned;
the best lack all conviction, while the worst
are full of passionate intensity
surely some revelation is at hand;
surely the second coming is at hand
the second coming! hardly are those words out
when a vast image out of spiritus mundi
troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
a shape with lion body and the head of a man
a gaze blank and pitiless as the sun
is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
reel shadows of the indignant desert birds
the darkness drops again; but now i know
that twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle
and what rough beast, its hour come round at last
slouches towards bethlehem to be born?
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