

#The Hour Before Dawn


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#### Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition


### Background details and bibliographic information


The Hour Before Dawn
====================


Author: William Butler Yeats
----------------------------


### File Description

Electronic edition compiled and proof-read by Beatrix Färber, Juliette Maffet

Funded by School of History, University College, Cork 1. First draft.Extent of text: 1236 words#### Publication


CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts: a project of University College, Cork  
College Road, Cork, Ireland—http://www.ucc.ie/celt

 (2012) Distributed by CELT online at University College, Cork, Ireland.  
Text ID Number: E910001-016Availability [RESTRICTED] 
The works by W. B. Yeats are in the public domain. This electronic text is available with prior consent of the CELT programme for purposes of private or academic research and teaching.


#### Sources


**Bibliography**2. A bibliography is available online at the official web site of the Nobel Prize. See: http://nobelprize.org/nobel\_prizes/literature/laureates/1923/yeats-bibl.html
**The edition used in the digital edition**2. William Butler Yeats The Hour Before Dawn in , Ed. William Butler Yeats Responsibilities and other Poems. The Macmillan Company, New York, (1916) page 52–58

### Encoding


#### Project Description


CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts


#### Sampling Declaration


The whole selection.


#### Editorial Declaration


##### Correction


Text has been proof-read twice.


##### Normalization


The electronic text represents the edited text. Lines (or parts of them) reproduced in italics in the printed edition are tagged hi rend="ital".


##### Hyphenation


The editorial practice of the hard-copy editor has been retained.


##### Segmentation


div0 =the poem, stanzas are marked lg.


##### Interpretation


Names of persons (given names), and places are not tagged. Terms for cultural and social roles are not tagged.


### Profile Description


Created: By William Butler Yeats (1865–1939).
 Date range: before 1916.#### Use of language


##### Language: [EN] The poem is in English.


### Revision History


* (2012-02-10) Beatrix Färber (ed.)

* File proofed (2), additions to encoding made; header completed; file parsed; SGML and HTML files created.
* (2012-02-01) Juliette Maffet (ed.)

* Header created.
* (2012-01-23) Juliette Maffet (ed.)

* First proofing.
* (2012-01-18) Juliette Maffet (file capture)

* Text captured by scanning.




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#### Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition: E910001-016


### The Hour Before Dawn: Author: William Butler Yeats




---

p.52


1. A one-legged, one-armed, one-eyed man,
  
A bundle of rags upon a crutch,
  
Stumbled on windy Cruachan
  
Cursing the wind. It was as much
  
As the one sturdy leg could do
  
To keep him upright while he cursed.
  
He had counted, where long years ago
  
Queen Maeve's nine Maines had been nursed,
  
A pair of lapwings, one old sheep
  
And not a house to the plain's edge,
  
When close to his right hand a heap
  
Of grey stones and a rocky ledge
  
Reminded him that he could make,
  
If he but shifted a few stones,
  
A shelter till the daylight broke.


---

p.53


But while he fumbled with the stones
  
They toppled over; 'Were it not
  
I have a lucky wooden shin
  
I had been hurt'; and toppling brought
  
Before his eyes, where stones had been,
  
A dark deep hole in the rock's face.
  
He gave a gasp and thought to run,
  
Being certain it was no right place
  
But the Hell Mouth at Cruachan
  
That's stuffed with all that's old and bad,
  
And yet stood still, because inside
  
He had seen a red-haired jolly lad
  
In some outlandish coat beside
  
A ladle and a tub of beer,
  
Plainly no phantom by his look.
  
So with a laugh at his own fear
  
He crawled into that pleasant nook.
  
Young Red-head stretched himself to yawn


---

p.54


And murmured, 'May God curse the night
  
That's grown uneasy near the dawn
  
So that it seems even I sleep light;
  
And who are you that wakens me?
  
Has one of Maeve's nine brawling sons
  
Grown tired of his own company?
  
But let him keep his grave for once
  
I have to find the sleep I have lost.'
  
And then at last being wide awake,
  
'I took you for a brawling ghost,
  
Say what you please, but from daybreak
  
I'll sleep another century.'
  
The beggar deaf to all but hope
  
Went down upon a hand and knee
  
And took the wooden ladle up
  
And would have dipped it in the beer
  
But the other pushed his hand aside,
  
'Before you have dipped it in the beer
  
That sacred Goban brewed,' he cried,
  
'I'd have assurance that you are able
  
To value beer—I will have no fool


---

p.55


Dipping his nose into my ladle
  
Because he has stumbled on this hole
  
In the bad hour before the dawn.
  
If you but drink that beer and say
  
I will sleep until the winter's gone,
  
Or maybe, to Midsummer Day
  
You will sleep that length; and at the first
  
I waited so for that or this—
  
Because the weather was a-cursed
  
Or I had no woman there to kiss,
  
And slept for half a year or so;
  
But year by year I found that less
  
Gave me such pleasure I'd forgo
  
Even a half hour's nothingness,
  
And when at one year's end I found
  
I had not waked a single minute,
  
I chose this burrow under ground.
  
I will sleep away all Time within it:
  
My sleep were now nine centuries
  
But for those mornings when I find
  
The lapwing at their foolish cries
  
And the sheep bleating at the wind


---

p.56


As when I also played the fool.'
  
The beggar in a rage began
  
Upon his hunkers in the hole,
  
'It's plain that you are no right man
  
To mock at everything I love
  
As if it were not worth the doing.
  
I'd have a merry life enough
  
If a good Easter wind were blowing,
  
And though the winter wind is bad
  
I should not be too down in the mouth
  
For anything you did or said
  
If but this wind were in the south.'
  
But the other cried, 'You long for spring
  
Or that the wind would shift a point
  
And do not know that you would bring,
  
If time were suppler in the joint,
  
Neither the spring nor the south wind
  
But the hour when you shall pass away
  
And leave no smoking wick behind,
  
For all life longs for the Last Day


---

p.57


And there's no man but cocks his ear
  
To know when Michael's trumpet cries
  
That flesh and bone may disappear,
  
And souls as if they were but sighs,
  
And there be nothing but God left;
  
But I alone being blessed keep
  
Like some old rabbit to my cleft
  
And wait Him in a drunken sleep.'
2. He dipped his ladle in the tub
  
And drank and yawned and stretched him out.
  
The other shouted, 'You would rob
  
My life of every pleasant thought
  
And every comfortable thing
  
And so take that and that.' Thereon
  
He gave him a great pummelling,
  
But might have pummelled at a stone
  
For all the sleeper knew or cared;
  
And after heaped the stones again
  
And cursed and prayed, and prayed and cursed:


---

p.58


'Oh God if he got loose!' And then
  
In fury and in panic fled
  
From the Hell Mouth at Cruachan
  
And gave God thanks that overhead
  
The clouds were brightening with the dawn.










