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Three old hermits took the air
By a cold and desolate sea,
First was muttering a prayer,
Second rummaged for a flea;
On a windy stone, the third,
Giddy with his hundredth year,
Sang unnoticed like a bird.
'Though the Door of Death is near
And what waits behind the door,
Three times in a single day
I, though upright on the shore,
Fall asleep when I should pray.'
So the first but now the second,
'We're but given what we have earned
When all thoughts and deeds are reckoned,
So it's plain to be discerned
That the shades of holy men,
Who have failed being weak of will,
Pass the Door of Birth again,
And are plagued by crowds, until
They've the passion to escape.'
Moaned the other, 'They are thrown
Into some most fearful shape.'
But the second mocked his moan:
'They are not changed to anything,
Having loved God once, but maybe,
To a poet or a king
Or a witty lovely lady.'
While he'd rummaged rags and hair,
Caught and cracked his flea, the third,
Giddy with his hundredth year
Sang unnoticed like a bird.
William Butler Yeats’ The Three Hermits is a deceptively simple poem that explores profound themes of spirituality, human frailty, and the cyclical nature of existence. Written in 1913 and published in Responsibilities and Other Poems (1914), the poem reflects Yeats’ enduring fascination with mysticism, reincarnation, and the tension between earthly life and spiritual transcendence. Through its three distinct hermits, Yeats presents contrasting perspectives on sin, redemption, and the afterlife, all while maintaining a tone that is at once whimsical and deeply philosophical.
This essay will examine the poem’s thematic concerns, its engagement with Yeats’ broader philosophical and esoteric interests, and its use of imagery and structure to convey its meditative message. Additionally, we will consider the poem’s historical and literary context, particularly its relationship to Irish folklore and Yeats’ own spiritual inquiries.
The poem opens with a striking image: three old hermits by a "cold and desolate sea," each engaged in a different activity—praying, hunting for a flea, and singing. This triad immediately suggests a symbolic structure, reminiscent of religious trinities or the three stages of spiritual progression. Yet, far from being idealized holy men, these hermits are deeply human, flawed, and preoccupied with earthly concerns.
The first hermit laments his inability to maintain spiritual discipline:
"Though the Door of Death is near
And what waits behind the door,
Three times in a single day
I, though upright on the shore,
Fall asleep when I should pray."
His struggle is one of spiritual weakness—despite his devotion, he succumbs to human exhaustion, unable to sustain his prayers. This introduces a key theme in Yeats’ work: the tension between the ideal of ascetic holiness and the reality of human frailty. The "Door of Death" looms as a threshold to the unknown, yet the hermit’s failing is not one of faith but of endurance.
The second hermit offers a theological interpretation of suffering and rebirth, suggesting that souls are reborn based on their past deeds:
"We're but given what we have earned
When all thoughts and deeds are reckoned..."
This aligns with Yeats’ interest in reincarnation, influenced by Theosophy and Eastern philosophies. The idea that "shades of holy men" must pass through the "Door of Birth" again due to their weaknesses echoes Hindu and Buddhist concepts of karma and samsara. However, Yeats complicates this by suggesting that these souls are not damned but rather forced to endure earthly life until they regain spiritual passion.
The third hermit, meanwhile, remains detached from these theological debates, singing "unnoticed like a bird." His giddy, almost childlike demeanor contrasts with the others’ anxieties, suggesting an alternative form of spirituality—one that is spontaneous, joyful, and unburdened by doctrinal rigidity.
Yeats employs stark, vivid imagery to underscore the poem’s themes. The "cold and desolate sea" evokes both isolation and the vast unknown, a liminal space between life and death. The hermits’ activities—praying, hunting a flea, singing—serve as metaphors for different approaches to spirituality:
The first hermit represents structured devotion, yet his inability to stay awake suggests the limitations of rigid piety.
The second embodies intellectual theology, parsing divine justice but perhaps missing the immediacy of spiritual experience.
The third exemplifies instinctual joy, his song an unconscious communion with the divine, free from dogma.
The flea, a minor but striking detail, introduces an element of the grotesque, grounding the poem in bodily existence. The act of catching and cracking it is both mundane and violent, a reminder of the physical world’s intrusions upon spiritual contemplation.
The poem’s circular structure—beginning and ending with the third hermit’s song—suggests an eternal return, reinforcing themes of cyclical rebirth. Unlike the other two, who are trapped in their concerns, the singing hermit exists in a state of grace, unselfconscious and free.
Yeats’ engagement with mysticism is well-documented; he was a member of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and deeply interested in cyclical theories of history, as seen in A Vision. The Three Hermits can be read alongside his other works exploring reincarnation (The Gyres, Byzantium) and the imperfections of spiritual seekers (The Circus Animals’ Desertion).
The poem also reflects Irish folk traditions, where hermits and holy men often appear as ambiguous figures—wise yet flawed, divine yet human. This duality is central to Yeats’ vision, where the sacred and the mundane are inextricably linked.
The Three Hermits ultimately presents holiness not as a state of perfection but as a spectrum of human experience. The first hermit’s guilt, the second’s doctrinal certainty, and the third’s unconscious joy each represent different paths—none entirely right or wrong. In typical Yeatsian fashion, the poem resolves nothing definitively, instead leaving the reader with a meditation on the nature of spiritual striving.
The singing hermit, "giddy with his hundredth year," may be the most enlightened of the three, not despite his simplicity but because of it. His song, like the poem itself, transcends theological debate, offering instead a fleeting, wordless glimpse of the divine. In this, Yeats suggests that true spirituality may lie beyond doctrine—in moments of unselfconscious being, as ephemeral and beautiful as a bird’s song by a desolate sea.
Thus, The Three Hermits stands as a microcosm of Yeats’ larger body of work: a blend of myth, philosophy, and lyrical beauty, inviting readers to ponder the mysteries of existence while embracing the imperfections that make us human.
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