Growing on the previous post, a poem written by Daniel Berrigan from his 
book, Prayer for the Morning Headlines: On the Sanctity of Life and Death
Ironies
draw the mind free of habitual
animal ease. Sough of tides in the heart,
massive and moony, is not our sound.
But hope and despair together
bring tears to face, and a human ground,
death mask and comic, such speech
as hero and commoner devise, make sense
contrive our face. To expunge
either, is to cast snares for the
ghost a glancing heart makes
along a ground, and airy goes its way.
And Yeats, "Sailing to Byzantine,"
Consume my heart, sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what is . . .
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