Chapter I: Front Matter

THE COLLECTED WORKS OF WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

_From a drawing by A. Mancini_]

THE CELTIC TWILIGHT AND
STORIES OF RED HANRAHAN
BEING THE FIFTH VOLUME OF
THE COLLECTED WORKS IN
VERSE & PROSE OF WILLIAM
BUTLER YEATS :: IMPRINTED
AT THE SHAKESPEARE HEAD
PRESS STRATFORD-ON-AVON
MCMVIII

CONTENTS

THE CELTIC TWILIGHT

PAGE
THIS BOOK 1

A TELLER OF TALES 3

BELIEF AND UNBELIEF 6

MORTAL HELP 9

A VISIONARY 11

VILLAGE GHOSTS 17

‘DUST HATH CLOSED HELEN’S EYE’ 27

A KNIGHT OF THE SHEEP 39

AN ENDURING HEART 44

THE SORCERERS 48

THE DEVIL 54

HAPPY AND UNHAPPY THEOLOGIANS 56

THE LAST GLEEMAN 63

REGINA, REGINA PIGMEORUM VENI 73

‘AND FAIR, FIERCE WOMEN’ 78

ENCHANTED WOODS 82

MIRACULOUS CREATURES 89

ARISTOTLE OF THE BOOKS 91

THE SWINE OF THE GODS 92

A VOICE 94

KIDNAPPERS 96

THE UNTIRING ONES 106

EARTH, FIRE AND WATER 110

THE OLD TOWN 112

THE MAN AND HIS BOOTS 115

A COWARD 117

THE THREE O’BYRNES AND THE EVIL FAERIES 119

DRUMCLIFF AND ROSSES 121

THE THICK SKULL OF THE FORTUNATE 131

THE RELIGION OF A SAILOR 134

CONCERNING THE NEARNESS TOGETHER OF HEAVEN,
EARTH, AND PURGATORY 136

THE EATERS OF PRECIOUS STONES 138

OUR LADY OF THE HILLS 140

THE GOLDEN AGE 144

A REMONSTRANCE WITH SCOTSMEN FOR HAVING SOURED
THE DISPOSITION OF THEIR GHOSTS AND
FAERIES 146

WAR 152

THE QUEEN AND THE FOOL 155

THE FRIENDS OF THE PEOPLE OF FAERY 162

DREAMS THAT HAVE NO MORAL 172

BY THE ROADSIDE 190

‘INTO THE TWILIGHT’ 193

STORIES OF RED HANRAHAN:

RED HANRAHAN 197

THE TWISTING OF THE ROPE 213

HANRAHAN AND CATHLEEN THE DAUGHTER OF HOOLIHAN 225

RED HANRAHAN’S CURSE 231

HANRAHAN’S VISION 242

THE DEATH OF HANRAHAN 250

THE CELTIC TWILIGHT

_Time drops in decay
Like a candle burnt out,
And the mountains and woods
Have their day, have their day;
But, kindly old rout
Of the fire-born moods,
You pass not away._

_THE HOSTING OF THE SIDHE_

_The host is riding from Knocknarea,
And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare;
Caolte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling, ‘Away, come away;
Empty your heart of its mortal dream.
The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,
Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,
Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are a-gleam,
Our arms are waving, our lips are apart;
And if any gaze on our rushing band,
We come between him and the deed of his hand,
We come between him and the hope of his heart.’
The host is rushing ’twixt night and day;
And where is there hope or deed as fair?
Caolte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling, ‘Away, come away.’_

THE CELTIC TWILIGHT

THIS BOOK

I