XPost: soc.history.medieval, alt.psychology.jung, alt.christnet.theology   
   XPost: alt.pagan   
   From: mlwi@swipnet.se   
      
   "M Winther"  skrev i meddelandet   
   news:4e75703c$0$10603$c83e3ef6@anchorman-read.tele2.net...   
   >   
   > "Erilar"  skrev i meddelandet   
   > news:j53lq4$sup$1@dont-email.me...   
   >> "M Winther"  wrote:   
   >>>   
   >> Old hat.  Even wiki has this stuff-- or is that where you found it?   
   >>   
   >> --   
   >> Erilar, biblioholic medievalist with iPad   
   >   
   > Of course, but if I related something that you already knew, then   
   > you would be able to expand on the subject.   
   >   
   > Mats   
   >   
      
   I didn't find it on Wiki by the way. I have done some reading in   
   proper books. The conclusions I draw are original and you probably   
   won't find exactly the same thing anywhere else. Some people have this   
   gift of thinking for themselves. I have noted that it is curiously   
   absent in many a scholar. I think it has to do with the fact that the   
   majority of scholars of the arts subjects and history are apt at   
   collecting information, but less gifted in thinking in new ways.   
      
   I noted that Yeats, in his poem The Second Coming, composed in 1919,   
   seems to allude to this medieval legend. Yeat's theme is interesting.   
      
   "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?"   
      
      
   Mats Winther   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)