SummaryThe vocalizer, referring to the country that he has left, says that it is no country for old hands: it is lavish of y revealh and life, with the young lying in ace anothers arms, shuckss verbalizeing in the trees, and fish swimming in the waters. There, entirely summer long the world rings with the sensual harmony that garners the young neglect the old, whom the speaker describes as Monuments of unageing intellect.An old man, the speaker says, is a paltry thing, merely a tattered cover upon a stick, unless his soul can clap its hands and sing; and the only way for the soul to learn how to sing is to muse monuments of its own magnificence. Therefore, the speaker has sailed the seas and come / To the holy city of Byzantium. The speaker addresses the sages standing in Gods holy fire / As in the gold mosaic of a wall, and asks them to be his souls singing-masters. He hopes they leave behind consume his heart away, for his heart knows not what it is--it is sick with intrust / And fastened to a dying animal, and the speaker wishes to be self-possessed Into the artifice of eternity.
The speaker says that once he has been final paymentn out of the natural world, he will no longer take his bodily form from any natural thing, but kinda will fashion himself as a singing bird made of hammered gold, such as Grecian goldsmiths make To keep a drowsy Emperor awake, or go down upon a tree of gold to sing / To lords and ladies of Byzantium / Or what is past, or passing, or to come.FormThe four eight-line stanzas of Sailing to Byzantium take a precise old verse form: they are metered in iambic pentameter, and rhymed ABABABCC, two trios of alternating...
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