AN IRISH AIRMAN FORESEES HIS DEATH
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
W.B. Yeats
Yeats wrote this poem in honour of his friend Major Robert Gregory, who fought and died in the air war against Germany in World War One.
Major Gregory was a very close friend of Yeats and the son of Lady Gregory, an Irish aristocrat who was a strong supporter of the arts (especially Irish arts).
Kiltartan, mentioned in lines 5 and 6 of the poem refers to the region where Lady Gregory lived.
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