Rite Of Spring Poem by Seamus Heaney

Rite Of Spring

Rating: 3.5

So winter closed its fist
And got it stuck in the pump.
The plunger froze up a lump

In its throat, ice founding itself
Upon iron. The handle
Paralysed at an angle.

Then the twisting of wheat straw
into ropes, lapping them tight
Round stem and snout, then a light

That sent the pump up in a flame
It cooled, we lifted her latch,
Her entrance was wet, and she came.

Edward Kofi Louis 22 February 2016

Her entrance was wet, and she came. Nice piece of work.

6 1 Reply
Ratnakar Mandlik 22 February 2016

A beautifully crafted poem with rhyme, thought provoking and intriguing too. Thanks for sharing.10 points.

4 2 Reply
M Asim Nehal 22 February 2016

Nicely written poem, Liked it, Wonderful.

3 1 Reply
Frances 29 July 2018

Heaney in later years said he would have liked to lose this poem, calling it ‘a crude bit of work’. The ending is indeed crude, a young man’s embarrassing metaphor. But up to that point it’s successful. Shows even a genius is capable of youthful error.

0 0 Reply
P. Mason 27 November 2016

Is it just me, or is Heaney dealing in a thinly veiled metaphor...? ?

3 0 Reply
Bill Wright 01 September 2016

Like Susan below I did wonder about the last bit of this poem, especially with a title like the Rite of Spring, very symbolic.

5 0 Reply
Anil Kumar Panda 22 February 2016

Wonderful poetry. Each line is a gem. Loved it.

4 1 Reply
Susan Williams 22 February 2016

The water-trough struggle- keep the pipes ice free or haul water. Winter has its plagues... thankfully there is that beautiful sparkle of snow to keep us fond of the season. Ummmm.... that last bit- - is it just me or is that more than just a wee bit alluding to sexual matters? I preferred the simple poem about keeping the water flowing.

19 1 Reply
Seamus Heaney

Seamus Heaney

Castledàwson, County Londonderry
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