[Verse 1]

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer

Things fall apart

The center cannot hold

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity

[Verse 2]

Surely some revelation is at hand

Surely the Second Coming is at hand

Thе Second Coming, hardly are those words out

Whеn a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight, somewhere in the sands of the desert

A shape with lion body and the head of a man

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun

Moving its slow thighs

While all about it reel shadows

Of the indignant desert birds

[Verse 3]

The darkness drops again, but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle

And what rough beast, its hour come 'round at last

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?