KISS: eXposed
1987
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The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out. When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi. Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert. A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it. Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
"The Second Coming" is a poem written by Irish poet W. B. Yeats in 1919, first printed in The Dial in November 1920 and included in his 1921 collection of verses Michael Robartes and the Dancer. The poem uses Christian imagery regarding the Apocalypse and Second Coming to describe allegorically the atmosphere of post-war Europe . [2]
Learn More. "The Second Coming" is one of W.B. Yeats's most famous poems. Written in 1919 soon after the end of World War I, it describes a deeply mysterious and powerful alternative to the Christian idea of the Second Coming—Jesus's prophesied return to the Earth as a savior announcing the Kingdom of Heaven. The poem's first stanza describes ...
By William Butler Yeats. ‘The Second Coming’ by William Butler Yeats delves into the tumultuous atmosphere of post-World War I Europe through apocalyptic imagery. William Butler Yeats was one of the most important poets of the 20th century. He passed away in January 1939 after a career in , , and poetry.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The Second Coming (sometimes called the Second Advent or the Parousia) is the Christian belief that Jesus Christ will return to Earth after his ascension to Heaven (which is said to have occurred about two thousand years ago). The idea is based on messianic prophecies and is part of most Christian eschatologies.
Jan 11, 2016 · The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out. When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi. Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert. A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it. Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
