1A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
2Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
3By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
4He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
5How can those terrified vague fingers push
6The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
7And how can body, laid in that white rush,
8But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
9A shudder in the loins engenders there
10The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
11And Agamemnon dead.
12 Being so caught up,
13So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
14Did she put on his knowledge with his power
15Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
1A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
2Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
3By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
4He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
5How can those terrified vague fingers push
6The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
7And how can body, laid in that white rush,
8But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
9A shudder in the loins engenders there
10The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
11And Agamemnon dead.
12 Being so caught up,
13So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
14Did she put on his knowledge with his power
15Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
In his poem “Leda and the Swan,” William Butler Yeats retells the classic Greek myth in which Leda, a human woman, is impregnated by the god Zeus while he is in the form of a swan. This conception results in the birth of Helen of Troy, who grows up to cause the legendary Trojan War—an event that, in turn, becomes the catalyst for the Golden Age of Greece and the dawn of modern history. In his arresting rendition of the myth, Yeats uses the traditional sonnet form to new ends, capturing the powerful forces by which history is made and the human impact of fate's violence and indifference.
The god Zeus, in the form of a swan, suddenly attacks Leda, striking her with his enormous wings. She stumbles as he looms above her, his webbed feet grabbing hold of her thighs while his bill latches on to her neck. She is overpowered, upright only because Zeus is holding her up, pressing their bodies close together as he assaults her.
Is there any way Leda's terrified, disoriented fingers could prevent the god from parting her thighs and raping her? How could she, overwhelmed by this blur of white feathers, keep from feeling the alien heartbeat of her attacker, pressed against her own?
The swan Zeus ejaculates into Leda's womb, and conceives the child, Helen, who will grow up to shape mythological history by causing the fall of Troy and the death of the Greek king Agamemnon. Was Leda too overwhelmed, too overpowered by her godly assailant, to realize the significance of this moment? Or did she possibly gain access to Zeus's godly foresight before he callously let go and let her fall?
"Leda and the Swan" depicts an act of rape. The poem’s graphic imagery leaves no doubt that Zeus, in the form of a swan, violently assaults Leda. At the same time, however, the poem seems to revel in sensuality even as it lays bare the brutality of Leda’s rape and its equally brutal consequence—the Trojan War. This ambiguous depiction of sexual violence is a central tension of the poem, and it is left unresolved. The poem neither condemns nor approves of Leda’s rape, but seeks instead to capture the complexity of the moment in light of its enormous mythological significance.
From the opening phrase, “A sudden blow,” it’s clear that the god Zeus is violating the human Leda. Words such as “staggering girl,” “helpless,” and “terrified” clearly articulate that Leda is taken by force. The fact that her thighs “loosen” indicates that, at first, they were clamped together, and she tries (but fails) to “push” Zeus away. The poem thus reflects Leda’s initial panic, confusion, and resistance upon being attacked, which in turn draws attention to her fragility. A human woman has no chance, the poem implies, against a god’s “feathered glory” and “white rush”—all she has are “terrified vague fingers” and a “helpless breast.”
Despite the clear violence here, the speaker also lends the encounter a (controversial) sensuality. Words and phrases like “thighs, “caressed,” “nape,” “holds her … breast” and, later, “feathered glory” and “shudder in the loins” all lend a sensual urgency to the poem’s depiction of this union. What’s more, Leda’s fingers pushing Zeus away are described as “vague,” her thighs eventually “loosen,” and the speaker even suggests that her body (or any body) cannot help but “feel the strange heart” of Zeus.
All of these details suggest that eventually Leda may not have simply surrendered to but even enjoyed the sex. This is troubling from a modern perspective but perhaps not surprising given the era in which the poem was written (1920s) or the era in which the poem takes place (ancient Greece).
The poem’s description of Leda’s reaction to her rape then culminates in the end of the sexual act, which results in impregnation: “A shudder in the loins engenders there / The broken wall, the burning roof, and tower.” Here the poem’s scope opens up dramatically, from Leda’s body to the wider world, moving abruptly from the rape itself to its consequences—that is, the eventual fall of Troy. Now, the poem reveals its real concerns: not with the rape itself, but with what that rape will achieve on a mythological scale. This moment also thus offers what is perhaps the poem’s clearest take on sex and violence: that violence begets more violence, which is emphasized by the callous way Zeus treats Leda at the end of her rape, when his “indifferent beak” simply “let[s] her drop.”
Ultimately, the ambiguous depiction of Leda’s rape suggests that it cannot be understood as an act of sexual violence alone. Rather, it is a tipping point in history, and at such a scale—the immense playing field of history, legacy, myth, and literature—only cause and effect can be traced, not right or wrong. The moral quandary of Leda’s body being violated is not the poem’s most pressing concern. Nevertheless, the speaker’s attention to Leda’s panic and fear are important; the speaker does not paper over the harm Zeus has caused, but instead contextualizes that harm within the larger scope of mythology and history.
To what degree do human beings have control over their destinies? In ancient times, there was no doubt that the gods held ultimate power over human beings. “Leda and the Swan” depicts this reality in no uncertain terms: Leda’s body and fate are at Zeus’s mercy. Nevertheless, the poem also suggests that humans possess enough free will to at least question their fates.
Furthermore, by posing such questions directly of the reader, the poem speaks to more than just this specific Greek myth. It suggests that all human beings are subject to forces beyond their control—and meditates on whether human beings are capable of understanding their place in the grand scheme of destiny and history.
From the start, by depicting an act of rape, the poem raises questions related to power and agency. Importantly, however, Zeus holds the power in this poem not because he is Leda’s rapist but because he is a god. Rape therefore takes on metaphorical significance, in which Leda’s assault is transformed into a symbol of the fate versus free will debate.
In this poem, fate wins: Zeus easily overpowers Leda. What's more, readers familiar with the myth will know that Leda is no ordinary human, but a queen in her own right. By referring to her merely as a “girl,” the poem emphasizes her frailty. Between a god and a queen, the god still holds all the power, suggesting that all human beings are ultimately subject to the tides of history, fate, destiny, and change.
As Leda's rape continues, the second stanza is then composed of two rhetorical questions, both of which essentially ask to what degree Leda has any free will within this situation. By leaving both questions unanswered, the poem asks the reader to draw their own conclusions. This is emphasized by the fact that the “body” in line 7 is assigned no pronouns:
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
This could be Leda’s body, or Zeus’s body, or even any body. In this moment, the poem pushes the reader to pose the rhetorical questions directly of themselves, and take the measure their own free will against the immense forces of fate and history.
The suggestion in this stanza that Leda eventually consents to Zeus does not square with readers’ modern understanding of sexual assault. However, it’s important to note that regardless of whether she eventually consents, the poem overall makes clear that Leda has no control over the situation. The poem therefore suggests that no matter how human beings react to the forces dictating their fates, those forces are still immensely more powerful than human free will.
The poem's most explicit depiction of fate takes place in the final stanza, at the moment of conception. Zeus’s loins literally plant the seeds of myth and history, and Leda, described as “caught up” and “mastered,” is powerless against the enormous forces of divinity and fate having their way with her body.
That said, even as this moment serves as a reminder of Leda’s powerlessness, it also affirms her significance. Her body is literally where the conception occurs, and metaphorically where all the historical action comes to fruition. Zeus may be in control of her fate, but he needs Leda as the vessel.
Importantly, the last two lines of the poem then consider the degree to which Leda comprehends what is happening to her. The speaker wonders aloud whether Leda was granted momentary godly insight into the bigger picture of her assault—or if she was left in the dark, simply a cog in the wheel of history. This is posed as another rhetorical question, again asking the reader to draw their own conclusions about whether a human being can understand their fate. While the poem clearly asserts that humans are powerless to resist fate, this conclusion suggests that they at least have the potential to grasp the greater meaning of their existence.
The clearest thesis of “Leda and the Swan” is that a single moment can reverberate throughout the entirety of history. Yeats famously believed that history was a series of interlocking and repeating patterns—he thought of them as “gyres,” which spiraled toward significant moments that triggered immense change. The significant moment of the poem is of course Zeus’s rape of Leda, which, according to myth, led to the Trojan War and the Golden Age of Greece—a modern age of art, literature, and democracy. The poem treats this significant moment between Leda and Zeus as a mythological and historical tipping point.
Of course, the poem makes clear that the thing that set this all in motion was an act of sexual violation, and that this violence, in turn, led to more terribly violent events before that Golden Age emerged. The poem thus also implies that sweeping historical transformation is often tied to moments of violation and violence.
Accordingly, the poem is also often read as an allusion to the dawn of Christianity, as well as a reference to the Irish War for Independence and Irish Civil War, which took place during the years when Yeats was writing “Leda and the Swan.”
Indeed, to any reader versed in the Western canon, which Yeats certainly was, the poem’s close attention to Leda’s experience also calls to mind another woman’s experience with divine conception—Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ. Yeats himself wrote in his book A Vision that he saw Leda’s rape as analogous with the Annunciation—the moment when the angel Gabriel tells Mary she will conceive a child by God. Likewise, just like Leda’s children, especially Helen, have a transformative effect on Greek history, there’s no question that Mary’s son Jesus and the rise of Christianity had a transformative effect on global history, including Yeats’s own country of Ireland.
Last but not least, many readers have interpreted the poem as an allusion to colonial relationship between Great Britain and Ireland, and more specifically to the Irish War for Independence. In this reading, Zeus represents not just the powerful forces of fate and history but the colonial power of England, which fully conquered Ireland in the 1500s, leading to famine, oppression, and violence—a kind of metaphorical rape, in the poem’s terms.
Between 1916 and 1922, however, pro-Irish forces staged a rebellion that resulted in an Irish Free State (in which Yeats served two terms as a senator). Nevertheless, Ireland still technically remained under English control. Then, between 1922 and 1924, when Yeats was writing “Leda and the Swan,” Civil War broke out, resulting in the split between independent Ireland and a Northern Irish state that remained part of the United Kingdom.
This was an immense turning point in the history of Ireland and England, and the beginning of a new era for Ireland. Thus, just as Zeus’s rape “engenders” the rise of the Greek Golden Age, the English domination of Ireland eventually gave rise to Irish independence. This could not take place without violence, however, which the poem also vividly reflects.
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl,
The poem begins in medias res (in the middle of the action), at the very moment that the god Zeus, in the form of a swan, has swooped down and hit Leda, a human woman and ancient Greek queen, with his enormous wings. As a result, Leda, described here as a "girl," stumbles, trying but failing to find her balance in the midst of this ambush.
Immediately, these lines establish the perspective of the speaker as very close to Leda's own. The first three words place the reader squarely within Leda's shock: she did not see the swan coming, and neither does the speaker or readers. This is further emphasized by the speaker's description of Leda as "staggering." She has not only been caught off guard but also violently struck, and is therefore reeling from this attack, barely able to remain on her feet.
Meanwhile, the description of Zeus's "great wings beating ... above" suggests that even in the form of a swan, the god is both larger and more powerful than Leda, and certainly larger and more powerful than an ordinary swan would be. Other than the image of the powerful swan beating its wings overhead, however, these lines reveal very little else about what's going on here. Again, this emphasizes how close the speaker is to Leda's own perspective. She's confused and overwhelmed by what is happening to her, so the speaker (and readers) are also disoriented.
These opening lines also introduce the poem's straightforward diction. The language is plainspoken, almost blunt, making clear what is happening here—a swan violently attacking a human woman. The meter here, on the other hand, is a bit unusual. The poem seems at times to be in iambic pentameter (meaning there are fie poetic feet, each with a da DUM stress pattern, per line)—the first indication that this poem is a sonnet, a traditional poetic form dating back to Petrarch and Shakespeare:
A sud- | den blow: | the great | wings beat- | ing still
Above | the stag- | gering girl,
However, the poem isn't consistent even from the start. The fourth foot of the first line ("wings beat-") is a spondee, a foot consisting of two stressed beats in a row; as a result, there are three stresses when describing Zeus's wings (great wings beat), which evokes the force and intensity of this action. The third foot of the second line, meanwhile, is an anapest (two unstressed beats followed by a stressed beat, "-gering girl")—another break in the meter that perhaps reflects Leda's own stumbling confusion. By breaking the rules right at the start, Yeats makes clear that the poem's form mirrors its provocative subject matter.
her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.


How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
The swan in "Leda and the Swan" is no ordinary bird. It is actually the Greek god Zeus, king of the Olympian gods, who has transformed himself into the form of a swan in order to impregnate Leda. As befits his godly position, Zeus is the power player in the poem, his attack setting into motion Leda's pregnancy, the birth of Helen, and the war that leads to the fall of Troy and rise of modern Greek history. But rather than referring explicitly to Zeus the god, Yeats consistently depicts him in his symbolic swan form, which highlights his animalistic nature as he relies on violence and violation in order to achieve his ends.
Relatedly, because the speaker of the poem hews so closely to Leda's human perspective, the glimpses readers get of the swan are fragmented and disorienting. These include the swan's "great wings," "dark webs," "bill," "feathered glory," "white rush," "loins," "brute blood," and "indifferent beak." This use of synecdoche—in which a part of the swan represents the bird as a whole—adds to the sense that the swan represents something so immense, so all-powerful, that no one description can capture its entirety.
Accordingly, the swan has been interpreted as a symbol for many things besides the god Zeus himself. Drawing parallels between Zeus's rape of Leda and the Christian Annunciation, some have read the swan as symbolic of God or the Holy Spirit, whose child conceived upon the Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ, changes the path of history. Still others have interpreted the swan as a symbol for England, the colonial power that dominated Yeats's native country of Ireland for centuries. Regardless, in its broadest meaning, the swan can be understood as symbolic of fate, destiny, history or change—any of the powerful forces that impact human lives.
Apart from the title, Leda goes unnamed throughout the poem. Introduced as a mere "staggering girl," from that point on, she, like the swan, is primarily described using synecdoche. Fragments of Leda's body—"her thighs," "her nape," "her helpless breast," her "terrified vague fingers" and "loosening thighs"—become representative of the woman as a whole. Line 9 simply reduces Leda to her womb, referring to her not even as a human being but as as "there"—the spot in which the god Zeus has planted the seeds of history.
Leda as woman, Leda as queen, Leda as mother, all fade into the background in contrast with all the things her body is being used to accomplish—"the broken wall, the burning roof and tower / And Agamemnon dead." As a result, despite giving readers insight into Leda's terror, the poem makes it easy to read her as symbolic of other things.
For starters, Yeats himself drew comparisons between Leda and the Virgin Mary, both of whom were human women who conceived babies by divine power, and bore children who grew up to alter history and usher in new eras of transformation. But Leda has also been read as symbolic of the country of Ireland, colonized by its more-powerful neighbor, England. These readings are rendered more complex when considering that some have read Leda's actions in the second stanza as indicative of her eventual consent, prompting questions about how Yeats viewed Ireland's own role in its subjugation and colonization.
Synecdoche is again the primary poetic device used in this symbol. Though the poem contains no explicit mention of Troy or the Trojan War, the individual images of the "broken wall, the burning roof and tower / and Agamemnon dead" in lines 10 and 11 are obvious references to this cataclysmic event in Greek mythology, which some believe may have been partially based in historical fact.
Together, Yeats uses these three striking images as symbols of the Trojan War, and in turn, uses the Trojan War as a whole as a symbol for a pivotal moment in ancient Greek history. This moment, as he saw it, set the stage for the dawn of the Greek Golden Age, and the era of modern European history that followed.
Therefore, this reference to the Trojan War can also be understood as a larger symbol of history and transformation. Yeats believed that history was composed of a series of cycles, and that it was possible to identify the turning points that triggered each new and transformative era. Every era, in other words, has its own Trojan War; and "Leda and the Swan" has often been read as symbolic of the dawn of Christianity and the Irish Civil War, with "the broken wall, the burning roof and tower / and Agamemnon dead" coming to represent the cataclysmic violence necessary for each era to achieve transformation.
Alliteration is most evident in the first stanza of the poem, where the successive uses of the same sounds helps to convey the frenzy and panic of Zeus's attack on Leda. In particular, the repetitive /h/ and /b/ sounds in the final line, "He holds her helpless breast upon his breast," helps to emphasize the firm grasp that Zeus has on Leda. Just like he has dominated her, the alliteration dominates the line.
The second stanza also uses alliteration to significant effect, linking together two body parts in conflict, Leda's "fingers" and Zeus's "feathered glory," through the use of the /f/ sound. Followed-up by "feel" in line 8, each of these words tracks Leda's capitulation, which is then echoed by the alliterative link between "body" and "beating." The suggestion that Leda cannot help but feel Zeus's heartbeat is brought vividly to life by the alliterative /b/ sounds that themselves suggest a heartbeat.
Last but not least, the third stanza comes back to /b/ sounds in "broken" and "burning"—tying together the separate images that make up the fall of Troy, and linking them to the "brute blood" that courses through Zeus's veins and plays a vital role in bringing that event to life.


Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
A "blow" is a forcible stroke delivered with a part of the body, such as a fist, or, in this case, Zeus's wings.
"Leda and the Swan" is divided into three stanzas and follows the form of the Petrarchan sonnet. As is typical of this type of sonnet, the first two stanzas of the poem each contain four lines (making them quatrains). There wouldn't usually be a stanza break between these two quatrains (which together can be considered an octave) in a sonnet. Overall, though, Yeats does follow the form relatively closely, with one major exception: the final stanza (beginning with "A shudder ..." in line 9) consists of seven lines.
Typically, this section would be a sestet, or a stanza with six lines. That said, lines 11 and 12 are much shorter than all the other lines in the poem, and can be considered one line that's been abruptly severed in two. This break occurs between the vision of the future, with the fall of Troy, and the present, wherein the speaker wonders if Leda has any knowledge of the events that her rape will set in motion. By breaking lines 11 and 12 in half visually and linking them through indentation, Yeats does superficially maintain the sestet and the sonnet form while also drawing attention to Leda's actual distance from these future events.
Yeats also keeps the volta, or turning point, of the sonnet in the traditional spot, between the octave and the sestet: line 9 marks the precise, cataclysmic moment of ejaculation and conception, which changes the course of history.
Another important aspect of the poem's form is that while the Petrarchan sonnet is usually associated with love poems, here Yeats subverts the form and uses it to depict rape. This choice draws further attention to the controversial subject matter and Yeats's atypical take on the Greek myth, in which Leda and Zeus's union is often portrayed as seduction rather than sexual assault. This in turn reinforces his depiction of this moment as revolutionary, leaving behind an outsize impact on the world.
The meter of "Leda and the Swan" is unusual. In keeping with the sonnet form, the poem roughly follows iambic pentameter. This means that most lines of the poem consist of five metrical feet with an unstressed-stressed beat pattern, making for ten syllables total per line. This da DUM pattern can be seen in line 4:
He holds | her help- | less breast | upon | his breast.
Iambic pentameter is often said to resemble a human heartbeat, and when that meter is in use, Yeats employs that association to great effect. For example, in the first stanza, the hurried bursts of iambic pentameter convey a rapidly-thumping, panicky heartbeat as Leda reacts to being assaulted.
However, the poem does not stick consistently to iambic pentameter. For example, the first line might best be scanned as:
A sud- | den blow: | the great | wings beat- | ing still
The double stress of "wings beat-" is a spondee. Combined with the "great" from the prior foot, this might also be considered an instance of something called molossus, a metrical foot used in ancient Greek and Latin poetry that consists of three long syllables (great wings beat). Either way, the strength of Zeus's mighty wings disturb the meter of the poem here, reflecting the god's power.
Perhaps the best way to characterize the poem's meter, then, is to say that it frequently uses iambic pentameter, but often discards that meter in favor of rhythmic interruptions and alterations that help to draw attention to the poem's violent and shocking subject matter, as well as its vivid diction.
For example, line 3 might be scanned as follows:
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill
This could be broken into feet in a few different ways, but what's most important is how the clusters of stressed beats help to emphasize the grotesque and violent imagery of the swan's assault.
These variations from the sonnet's traditional meter are particularly evident in the final stanza of the poem, in which Yeats not only freely abandons iambic pentameter when the word choice or subject matter calls for it, but evens adds an extra syllable into the final line, for a total of 11 beats instead of the expected 10:
Before | the in- | differ- | ent beak | could let | her drop?
Why do this? The word "indifferent" is hugely important here, conveying volumes about Zeus's relationship to Leda and to humanity as a whole. It's a deviation from the metrical norm made with care, helping accomplish the poem's overall goal of pushing readers to confront some difficult and provocative subjects and questions.
In terms of rhyme scheme, "Leda and the Swan" follows the traditional sonnet form. Interestingly, however, though the poem overall is more typical of a Petrarchan sonnet (in that it essentially consists of an octave followed by a sestet—more on that in the Form section of this guide), the rhyme scheme of the first two stanzas actually resembles a Shakespearean sonnet. This is because, instead of following an ABAB ABAB pattern, the stanzas go:
ABAB CDCD
...with new end rhymes being introduced in the second stanza.
The closing sestet also breaks from tradition. Though the rhyme schemes of the sestets in Petrarchan sonnets tend to be very flexible, they typically rotate between two or three different end rhyme sounds. In this poem, however, there are technically four distinct sounds (because line 11 has basically been cut in half). As such, the pattern goes:
EFGHEFH
It should also be noted that many of these rhymes are not perfect rhymes, but instead slant rhymes (take "rush"/"push" and "up"/"drop" for example). Similarly, the word "dead" in line 11 rhymes with nothing else—an unusual choice in a sonnet. In this case, however, that choice not only makes this important moment in the poem—the description of the fall of Troy—stand out from the rest, it also is followed by a full stop, a clear pause that helps transition readers back into the scene with Zeus and Leda.
Nevertheless, the regular rhyme scheme is the aspect of the poem where Yeats sticks closely to the traditional sonnet form. In a poem that otherwise breaks many conventional rules, this consistency helps the poem hang together as a unified whole. It also adds to its readability, as the rhyme propels readers forward despite the difficult subject matter.
The speaker in "Leda and the Swan" is an anonymous figure. They are a witness to Zeus's assault on Leda, and describe the event in real time, blow by blow. For the most part, they stick closely to Leda's experience of the event, primarily conveying her panic and fear in response to being raped. In contrast, the speaker does not give readers any insight into Zeus's motivations or reactions. This indicates, most likely, that the speaker is meant to be a fellow human being, not a god. The fact that the speaker often addresses readers—presumably, also humans—through rhetorical questions also supports this interpretation.
However, the speaker is not just a bystander who happens to be present when this assault takes place. As revealed in the third stanza, the speaker already knows the consequences of Leda and Zeus's sexual encounter. The speaker has connected the dots between this significant moment and the legacy it leaves behind, which enables the speaker to not only render the moment of conception in line 9, but also to flash-forward and begin to reflect on its greater historical impact.
Interestingly, though, the speaker is not all-knowing. As lines 14-15 indicate, the speaker remains unsure of the degree to which Leda herself understands what is happening to her. Though the speaker has put themselves in Leda's shoes throughout the poem, conveying her terror with great precision, they still do not have complete insight into her internal experience.
In this way, the speaker very much reflects the readers, and even Leda herself—all of whom are human beings who vividly experience the forces of fate and history, even if they don't necessarily fully understand the implications or significance of those powerful forces.
Given the myth that shapes the poem's narrative, the poem can be thought of as taking place in ancient Greece. That said, there is very little indication of any more specific setting of "Leda and the Swan." The speaker is so focused on the action and relationship between these two characters that no time is spent describing exactly where this assault takes place. The only place described by the poem is the city of Troy, in line 10, and even then, the city is used mostly as a symbol.
The poem does move around in time, however, from this moment between Leda and Zeus to the future where the city of Troy is being conquered and Agamemnon is murdered. The fluidity of the poem's time period reflects its thematic concerns with the way that a single event can ripple throughout history.
"Leda and the Swan" was published toward the end of Yeats's career, in his 1928 collection The Tower, just five years after he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. This collection includes many other celebrated poems of his, including "Sailing to Byzantium." Not only are they regarded as masterpieces of Irish literature, both "Leda and the Swan" and The Tower as a whole are widely recognized as among the greatest literary works of the 20th century.
"Leda and the Swan" is also, of course, one of many artistic renditions of a classic Greek myth that has been told and retold many, many times. Indeed, even as far as back as ancient Greece itself, the story can be found in illustrations on vases and urns. In brief, the most common version of the myth is that the king of the gods, Zeus, transformed himself into a swan in order to impregnate Leda. (Some versions describe this union as seduction; others, like Yeats, as rape.) From this union, Leda gave birth to at least one child, Helen, considered the most beautiful woman in the world. Helen married a Greek king, only to be abducted by a Trojan prince, leading to the decade-long Trojan War described in The Iliad.
The Iliad is generally believed to be among the first literary works of Greek antiquity. Together with The Odyssey, it represents the heart of the Western literary canon, and has influenced writers and their work for thousands of years. "Leda and the Swan" is very much a part of this literary family.
Beyond its mythic and ancient literary context, "Leda and the Swan" should also be understood as part of Ireland's history, both literary and otherwise. William Butler Yeats was an enormously prolific and influential Irish writer. Born in 1865, his influences were wide and diverse, including the English Romantics—figures such as Wordsworth ("I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud"), Blake ("London"), and Keats ("To Autumn")—and the French Symbolists, such as Stephen Mallarmé and Arthur Rimbaud.
Yeats was also fascinated by Irish mythology and folklore. He played a vital role in the Irish Literary Revival, which included a renewed interest in Irish and Gaelic literature, language, history, and culture, all of which had been suppressed by English colonization. This revival was a key part of the Irish push for self-autonomy, leading to its eventual rebellion and the achievement in 1924 of an independent Irish state.
Though "Leda and the Swan" makes no explicit mention of Irish nationalism, nor does it touch on Irish folklore or mythology (as many of Yeats's poems do), it has nevertheless been widely interpreted as an allegory for the Irish War for Independence and Irish Civil War. These two back-to-back conflicts were cataclysmic, marking the biggest political upheaval in Yeats's lifetime (barring perhaps World War I). They certainly hit closer to home, and led to political changes that Yeats had been advocating for most of his life.
"Leda and the Swan's" depiction of historical change vividly reflects the intense violence and upheaval that Ireland endured during Yeats's lifetime. What's more, from his notes and papers, scholars know that Yeats was working on the poem during 1923 and 1924, the precise years of the Irish Civil War, while he was also serving as a senator for the Irish Free State. Though Yeats generally eschewed violence as a means of resistance, he had conflicting feelings about those involved in the armed insurrection, and certainly about the impact of violence when it aligned with his own political goals and beliefs. This can be seen throughout "Leda and the Swan," especially its ambiguity concerning Leda's rape.
Yeats's Geometry and Gyres — An excerpt from a scholarly article that investigates W.B. Yeats's theories about "gyres" and historical change.
The Life and Works of William Butler Yeats — An online exhibition presented by the National Library of Ireland on W.B. Yeats and his impact on his native country.
Yeats's Biography — An account of W.B. Yeats's life, with a focus on his development as a poet.
Leda and the Swan in Art — A round-up of just some of the many interpretations of the story of Leda and the Swan in visual art.
Encyclopedia Mythica — A helpful resource for more information on mythical figures referenced by the poem, including Leda, Zeus, and Agamemnon.