Yeats’s speaker is a wandering beggar, cheerful and willful. Coming over Windy Gap, he takes a tossed halfpenny or a scrap of salted fish as proof that he is running to Paradise. He contrasts his light, wish-driven life with his brother Mourteen’s exhausting respectability—a household, servants, dog and gun—and with the rise and fall of rich and poor. The refrain “the king is but as the beggar” returns like a leveling chorus: no worldly rank matters in the end. There is a teasing, song-like energy, but also a hint of loneliness. The only companion that truly matches his spirit is the wind, which cannot be bought or bound. The mood is playful, defiant, and a little wistful—Paradise here feels like moving freely, unburdened by possessions, status, or other people’s expectations.
Running to Paradise — Summary
As I came over Windy Gap They threw a halfpenny into my cap, For I am running to Paradise; And all that I need do is to wish And somebody puts his hand in the dish To throw me a bit of salted fish: And there the king is but as the beggar.
My brother Mourteen is worn out With skelping his big brawling lout, And I am running to Paradise; A poor life do what he can, And though he keep a dog and a gun, A serving maid and a serving man: And there the king is but as the beggar.
Poor men have grown to be rich men, And rich men grown to be poor again, And I am running to Paradise; And many a darling wit's grown dull That tossed a bare heel when at school, Now it has filled an old sock full: And there the king is but as the beggar.
The wind is old and still at play While I must hurry upon my way, For I am running to Paradise; Yet never have I lit on a friend To take my fancy like the wind That nobody can buy or bind: And there the king is but as the beggar.