W. B. Yeats's "September 1913" condemns the political complacency of the Irish middle class and challenges readers to reflect on the examples set by revolutionaries who fiercely fought for Ireland's independence from Britain. Though Yeats was a devoted Irish nationalist, this poem mourns the possibility of an Ireland true to his romantic ideals and wonders if those earlier revolutionaries' sacrifices were in vain. Yeats first published "September 1913," originally titled "Romance in Ireland," in The Irish Times; it was later collected in Responsibilities (1914).
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1What need you, being come to sense,
2But fumble in a greasy till
3And add the halfpence to the pence
4And prayer to shivering prayer, until
5You have dried the marrow from the bone;
6For men were born to pray and save:
7Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,
8It's with O'Leary in the grave.
9Yet they were of a different kind,
10The names that stilled your childish play,
11They have gone about the world like wind,
12But little time had they to pray
13For whom the hangman's rope was spun,
14And what, God help us, could they save?
15Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
16It’s with O'Leary in the grave.
17Was it for this the wild geese spread
18The grey wing upon every tide;
19For this that all that blood was shed,
20For this Edward Fitzgerald died,
21And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone,
22All that delirium of the brave?
23Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
24It's with O'Leary in the grave.
25Yet could we turn the years again,
26And call those exiles as they were
27In all their loneliness and pain,
28You'd cry, "Some woman's yellow hair
29Has maddened every mother's son":
30They weighed so lightly what they gave.
31But let them be, they're dead and gone,
32They're with O'Leary in the grave.
1What need you, being come to sense,
2But fumble in a greasy till
3And add the halfpence to the pence
4And prayer to shivering prayer, until
5You have dried the marrow from the bone;
6For men were born to pray and save:
7Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,
8It's with O'Leary in the grave.
9Yet they were of a different kind,
10The names that stilled your childish play,
11They have gone about the world like wind,
12But little time had they to pray
13For whom the hangman's rope was spun,
14And what, God help us, could they save?
15Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
16It’s with O'Leary in the grave.
17Was it for this the wild geese spread
18The grey wing upon every tide;
19For this that all that blood was shed,
20For this Edward Fitzgerald died,
21And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone,
22All that delirium of the brave?
23Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
24It's with O'Leary in the grave.
25Yet could we turn the years again,
26And call those exiles as they were
27In all their loneliness and pain,
28You'd cry, "Some woman's yellow hair
29Has maddened every mother's son":
30They weighed so lightly what they gave.
31But let them be, they're dead and gone,
32They're with O'Leary in the grave.
What need you, being come to sense,
But fumble in a greasy till
And add the halfpence to the pence
And prayer to shivering prayer, until
You have dried the marrow from the bone;
For men were born to pray and save:
Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,
It's with O'Leary in the grave.
Yet they were of a different kind,
The names that stilled your childish play,
They have gone about the world like wind,
But little time had they to pray
For whom the hangman's rope was spun,
And what, God help us, could they save?
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
It’s with O'Leary in the grave.
Was it for this the wild geese spread
The grey wing upon every tide;
For this that all that blood was shed,
For this Edward Fitzgerald died,
And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone,
All that delirium of the brave?
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
It's with O'Leary in the grave.
Yet could we turn the years again,
And call those exiles as they were
In all their loneliness and pain,
You'd cry, "Some woman's yellow hair
Has maddened every mother's son":
They weighed so lightly what they gave.
But let them be, they're dead and gone,
They're with O'Leary in the grave.
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
The Poet's Life and Work — Read a short biography of Yeats at the Poetry Foundation.
"A Poet Discouraged" — A close look at Yeats's response to the controversy surrounding the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin.
The Irish Times, September 1913 — An article commemorating the 100-year anniversary of "September 1913" in The Irish Times.
"Romance In Ireland" — Read the original text of "September 1913" as it first appeared on Monday, September 8, 1913 in The Irish Times.