"Turning and turning in the widening gyre, the falcon cannot hear the falconer. Things fall apart. 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. Surely some revelation is at hand. Surely the Second Coming is at hand. 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. And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
