by William Butler Yeats (1865 - 1939)
To a Friend whose Work has come to Nothing
Language: English
Now all the truth is out, Be secret and take defeat From any brazen throat, For how can you compete, Being honour bred, with one Who, were it proved he lies, Were neither shamed in his own Nor in his neighbours' eyes? Bred to a harder thing Than Triumph, turn away And like a laughing string Whereon mad fingers play Amid a place of stone, Be secret and exult, Because of all things known That is most difficult.
Text Authorship:
- by William Butler Yeats (1865 - 1939), "To a Friend whose Work has come to Nothing", appears in Poems Written in Discouragement, first published 1913 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Hugh Wood (1932 - 2021), "To a Friend whose Work has come to Nothing", 1973 [ SATB chorus a cappella ] [sung text not yet checked]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2008-09-18
Line count: 16
Word count: 78