Photo by Yevhen Buzuk on Unsplash
Perpetual Perishing and Beauty
The Wild Swans of Coole by WB Yeats
Imagine a moment in time that includes:
"themes of heartache and the passing of time, and the bittersweet feeling of having been touched by something mysterious and beautiful, while at the same time being aware that someday it will move on, and the beauty and the delight will be for someone else’s eyes."
I borrow these words from Mark McGuiness (see below).
Now, picture that this "mysterious and beautiful" presence is neither human nor divine but something wild, vital, and alive: the rhythmic coming and going of wild swans—fifty-nine of them—gracing a quiet lake. Someday they will disappear.
But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful.
And in their wandering on the still water, and in their flying, there is something primal, unaffected by human affairs. Their hearts have not grown old; they are unaware of, and uninterested in, so many things that concern you: religion, politics, family life, career.
You've been coming to this lake for years, watching them.
The swans will one day leave, their graceful forms taking flight to somewhere foreign to you. Other eyes may gaze upon them, but not yours. You are aging, growing old, and have endured many disappointments along the way. And yet, their steadfast rhythm—their coming and going—offers a strange solace. It is comforting yet sad, sad yet comforting. Their presence reminds you of the beauty that persists in the world, indifferent to your personal struggles, yet somehow offering a silent companionship, a reminder that life’s rhythms continue, even as your own path shifts and fades.
This is The Wild Swans at Coole by William Butler Yeats—a vivid meditation on the transient yet enduring beauty of life. The poem speaks to the tension between the timeless and the fleeting, capturing both the beauty of nature’s cycles and the personal ache of impermanence. It reminds us of the beauty that transcends human life, even as it underscores the perpetual perishing of life itself, evoking both reverence and melancholy in its quiet reflection.
It could be tempting to want to resolve this melancholy in an optimism, either an assurance that you do not die, or that life goes on, or that God somehow retains all moments such as this in an everlasting life where there is no perishing, and all is present. There may be times when such resolution is called for. But there are also times when we must rest in the melancholy, in the tragic beauty, and let it speak to us on its own terms. Is not that melancholy, too, a holy emotion?
In Whitehead's process philosophy, the themes of perpetual perishing and beauty are deeply intertwined. Beauty is not diminished by impermanence but is made more poignant because of it. In The Wild Swans at Coole, these two themes come together seamlessly. The swans’ beauty is heightened precisely because it exists within the flow of time, fleeting yet recurring, leaving behind the bittersweet realization that such beauty is not ours to hold forever. Instead, it is a gift of the moment—a transient harmony that reminds us of life’s ever-changing rhythms and invites us to find holiness in the melancholy itself.
- Jay McDaniel
"themes of heartache and the passing of time, and the bittersweet feeling of having been touched by something mysterious and beautiful, while at the same time being aware that someday it will move on, and the beauty and the delight will be for someone else’s eyes."
I borrow these words from Mark McGuiness (see below).
Now, picture that this "mysterious and beautiful" presence is neither human nor divine but something wild, vital, and alive: the rhythmic coming and going of wild swans—fifty-nine of them—gracing a quiet lake. Someday they will disappear.
But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful.
And in their wandering on the still water, and in their flying, there is something primal, unaffected by human affairs. Their hearts have not grown old; they are unaware of, and uninterested in, so many things that concern you: religion, politics, family life, career.
You've been coming to this lake for years, watching them.
The swans will one day leave, their graceful forms taking flight to somewhere foreign to you. Other eyes may gaze upon them, but not yours. You are aging, growing old, and have endured many disappointments along the way. And yet, their steadfast rhythm—their coming and going—offers a strange solace. It is comforting yet sad, sad yet comforting. Their presence reminds you of the beauty that persists in the world, indifferent to your personal struggles, yet somehow offering a silent companionship, a reminder that life’s rhythms continue, even as your own path shifts and fades.
This is The Wild Swans at Coole by William Butler Yeats—a vivid meditation on the transient yet enduring beauty of life. The poem speaks to the tension between the timeless and the fleeting, capturing both the beauty of nature’s cycles and the personal ache of impermanence. It reminds us of the beauty that transcends human life, even as it underscores the perpetual perishing of life itself, evoking both reverence and melancholy in its quiet reflection.
It could be tempting to want to resolve this melancholy in an optimism, either an assurance that you do not die, or that life goes on, or that God somehow retains all moments such as this in an everlasting life where there is no perishing, and all is present. There may be times when such resolution is called for. But there are also times when we must rest in the melancholy, in the tragic beauty, and let it speak to us on its own terms. Is not that melancholy, too, a holy emotion?
In Whitehead's process philosophy, the themes of perpetual perishing and beauty are deeply intertwined. Beauty is not diminished by impermanence but is made more poignant because of it. In The Wild Swans at Coole, these two themes come together seamlessly. The swans’ beauty is heightened precisely because it exists within the flow of time, fleeting yet recurring, leaving behind the bittersweet realization that such beauty is not ours to hold forever. Instead, it is a gift of the moment—a transient harmony that reminds us of life’s ever-changing rhythms and invites us to find holiness in the melancholy itself.
- Jay McDaniel
The Wild Swans at Coole
by W. B. Yeats
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine and fifty swans.
The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold,
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
"Because whether or not you agree with me on this particular point, I do hope you will agree that this is a magnificent poem, that repays very careful reading and listening. And that part of its appeal is the very subtle and delicate balance of its sonic construction, balancing similarity and difference to perfectly express its themes of heartache and the passing of time, and the bittersweet feeling of having been touched by something mysterious and beautiful, while at the same time being aware that someday it will move on, and the beauty and the delight will be for someone else’s eyes."
- Mark McGuinness is an award-winning poet based in Bristol, UK and the host of the acclaimed poetry podcast, A Mouthful of Air. This is an excerpt from a transcript of the episode on Yeats' poem in A Mouthful of Air
- Mark McGuinness is an award-winning poet based in Bristol, UK and the host of the acclaimed poetry podcast, A Mouthful of Air. This is an excerpt from a transcript of the episode on Yeats' poem in A Mouthful of Air