A Prayer for My Daughter
By William Butler Yeats
Once more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle
But Gregory’s wood and one bare hill
Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind.
Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed;
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.
I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour
And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower,
And-under the arches of the bridge, and scream
In the elms above the flooded stream;
Imagining in excited reverie
That the future years had come,
Dancing to a frenzied drum,
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.
May she be granted beauty and yet not
Beauty to make a stranger’s eye distraught,
Or hers before a looking-glass, for such,
Being made beautiful overmuch,
Consider beauty a sufficient end,
Lose natural kindness and maybe
The heart-revealing intimacy
That chooses right, and never find a friend.
Helen being chosen found life flat and dull
And later had much trouble from a fool,
While that great Queen, that rose out of the spray,
Being fatherless could have her way
Yet chose a bandy-legged smith for man.
It’s certain that fine women eat
A crazy salad with their meat
Whereby the Horn of plenty is undone.
In courtesy I’d have her chiefly learned;
Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned
By those that are not entirely beautiful;
Yet many, that have played the fool
For beauty’s very self, has charm made wisc.
And many a poor man that has roved,
Loved and thought himself beloved,
From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.
May she become a flourishing hidden tree
That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,
And have no business but dispensing round
Their magnanimities of sound,
Nor but in merriment begin a chase,
Nor but in merriment a quarrel.
O may she live like some green laurel
Rooted in one dear perpetual place.
My mind, because the minds that I have loved,
The sort of beauty that I have approved,
Prosper but little, has dried up of late,
Yet knows that to be choked with hate
May well be of all evil chances chief.
If there’s no hatred in a mind
Assault and battery of the wind
Can never tear the linnet from the leaf.
An intellectual hatred is the worst,
So let her think opinions are accursed.
Have I not seen the loveliest woman born
Out of the mouth of plenty’s horn,
Because of her opinionated mind
Barter that horn and every good
By quiet natures understood
For an old bellows full of angry wind?
Considering that, all hatred driven hence,
The soul recovers radical innocence
And learns at last that it is self-delighting,
Self-appeasing, self-affrighting,
And that its own sweet will is Heaven’s will;
She can, though every face should scowl
And every windy quarter howl
Or every bellows burst, be happy still.
And may her bridegroom bring her to a house
Where all’s accustomed, ceremonious;
For arrogance and hatred are the wares
Peddled in the thoroughfares.
How but in custom and in ceremony
Are innocence and beauty born?
Ceremony’s a name for the rich horn,
And custom for the spreading laurel tree.
Poem Analysis:
W. B. Yeats’s A Prayer for My Daughter, written in 1919 and published in 1921, is both a personal meditation and a reflection on the broader turmoil of the modern world. Composed in the aftermath of the First World War and amid the Irish Civil War’s brewing tensions, the poem presents Yeats’s anxious hopes for his newborn daughter, Anne. While the poem is framed as a prayer, it is as much an expression of fear as it is of aspiration—a father’s attempt to articulate what virtues and circumstances will allow his child to flourish in a world overshadowed by violence, uncertainty, and moral confusion.
Setting the Scene: Storms Without and Within
The poem opens with a storm raging outside:
“Once more the storm is howling…My child sleeps on…And for an hour I have walked and prayedBecause of the great gloom that is in my mind.”
This storm has both literal and symbolic functions. It echoes the political chaos and violence of Yeats’s contemporary world, a world in upheaval after the First World War and shaken by conflicts in Ireland. The child sleeps peacefully, sheltered beneath “cradle-hood and coverlid,” while her father walks and prays under the weight of “gloom.” His anxiety is not only for the moment but for the future—a future he imagines with dread.
Yeats listens to the “sea-wind scream,” describing it in terms that associate nature with danger, frenzy, and destructive innocence. The sea’s “murderous innocence” hints at forces that kill without malice—events and ideologies that sweep away lives without intention or remorse. This foreboding atmosphere frames the prayer that follows.
Beauty: A Gift and a Burden
The first hope Yeats expresses for his daughter is measured and cautious:
“May she be granted beauty and yet notBeauty to make a stranger’s eye distraught…”
Yeats fears excessive beauty. To him, too much beauty leads to vanity, pride, or the misuse of admiration. He worries that beauty might become “a sufficient end,” drawing his daughter away from natural kindness and genuine connection.
He turns to mythological examples: Helen of Troy and Aphrodite (the “great Queen, that rose out of the spray”). Both figures are symbols of devastating beauty. Helen’s beauty sparked the Trojan War. Aphrodite’s freedom brought her questionable choices—she selected “a bandy-legged smith,” Hephaestus, as her husband, a choice Yeats ironically views as morally or socially odd.
From these examples, Yeats constructs the idea that beauty often guides women into poor decisions:
“fine women eatA crazy salad with their meatWhereby the Horn of plenty is undone.”
The “crazy salad” symbolizes folly or irrationality accompanying beauty’s blessings. The “Horn of plenty” is a symbol of abundance and prosperity, here threatened by beauty’s excesses.
Yeats prefers beauty moderated by humility, charm, and courtesy.
Courtesy, Charm, and Earned Hearts
Yeats’s next wish for his daughter is courtesy:
“In courtesy I’d have her chiefly learned;Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earnedBy those that are not entirely beautiful.”
Courtesy, for Yeats, is a virtue that encourages relational harmony and genuine affection. Beauty alone cannot secure love; it can ensnare, confuse, or mislead. Courtesy, however—gentleness, thoughtfulness, and social grace—earns lasting affection.
Yeats contrasts courtesy and charm with destructive passions:
“many… that have played the foolFor beauty’s very self, has charm made wise.”
Charm, in his sense, is not superficial allure but a form of emotional intelligence—kindness, sympathy, and modesty that corrects foolishness and tempers desire.
Rootedness: Growth in Stability and Innocence
Yeats then shifts his imagery from human virtues to metaphors of nature:
“May she become a flourishing hidden treeThat all her thoughts may like the linnet be…”
The tree symbolizes stability, rootedness, and quiet strength. Its being “hidden” suggests modesty and inner growth rather than ambition or ostentation. The linnet—a small, melodious bird—symbolizes innocence and joyful natural expression. Yeats hopes her thoughts will be musical, generous, and harmless (“magnanimities of sound”).
He imagines her life guided by delight, freedom from bitterness, and the calm of a “green laurel” rooted in affectionate constancy. The laurel is a classical symbol of poetic achievement and virtue. Here it also suggests peace in a specific, stable environment—a counter-vision to a world filled with uproar and ideological turmoil.
The Dangers of Hatred and Opinionated Minds
Yeats’s prayer takes a darker turn as he reflects on the moral failures he has witnessed in others:
“My mind… knows that to be choked with hateMay well be of all evil chances chief.”
Hatred, for Yeats, is the root of human misery. Its worst form is “intellectual hatred”—ideological obsession, self-righteousness, and rigid opinion. These qualities afflicted many whom Yeats had admired. He laments:
“Have I not seen the loveliest woman bornOut of the mouth of plenty’s horn…Because of her opinionated mindBarter that horn…For an old bellows full of angry wind?”
The “loveliest woman” is widely understood to be Maud Gonne, Yeats’s muse and unrequited love. Her passionate political extremism (from Yeats’s perspective) transformed her beauty and potential into sterile anger (“an old bellows full of angry wind”).
Yeats fears such bitterness for his daughter. He hopes she will avoid ideological rigidity and cultivate instead a soul capable of “radical innocence.”
Radical Innocence and Happiness Amid Turmoil
One of the poem’s most intriguing concepts is “radical innocence”—a purity reached not through naivety but through conquering hatred:
“Considering that, all hatred driven hence,The soul recovers radical innocence…”
This innocence is a spiritual resilience. A person with such innocence is self-delighting, self-appeasing, and self-affrighting—one who understands herself and is in harmony with her own will. This is Yeats’s model for happiness: inner strength, autonomy, and moral clarity that remain secure even when “every face should scowl” or “every windy quarter howl.”
It is an innocence that can endure storms.
Ceremony and Custom: The Foundation of Stability
The poem concludes with a wish for Yeats’s daughter’s future marriage:
“And may her bridegroom bring her to a houseWhere all’s accustomed, ceremonious…”
To Yeats, “ceremony” is not empty ritual but the structure that makes beauty and innocence flourish. Custom is the foundation of emotional security and social harmony:
“How but in custom and in ceremonyAre innocence and beauty born?”
The “horn” (symbol of abundance) becomes “ceremony’s rich horn,” and the “laurel tree” of rooted stability becomes associated with “custom.” Yeats sees domestic ritual and stable tradition as the safeguards of inner virtue—defenses against hatred, fury, and societal chaos.
A Father’s Prayer for a Fragile World
A Prayer for My Daughter is at once deeply personal and profoundly political. Yeats writes in the shadow of war, revolution, and social upheaval, feeling the world to be unstable and morally troubled. In response, he seeks for his daughter a life grounded in moderation, courtesy, stability, and love—qualities he believes can withstand the tempests of history.
At its core, the poem expresses several intertwined convictions:
- Excess beauty can corrupt.
- Courtesy earns genuine affection.
- Intellectual hatred is spiritually destructive.
- Innocence restored through love is the highest moral condition.
- Stability through custom and ceremony protects the soul.
Through these ideals, Yeats imagines a path for his daughter that avoids the tragic follies he has witnessed in others. His poem becomes a father’s attempt to shelter his child with words, even as storms—literal and metaphorical—rage outside.
If you want, I can expand this into a long-form academic essay (1,500–2,000 words) or provide line-by-line commentary, contextual notes on Yeats’s biography, or comparisons with The Second Coming.