A tattered coat upon a stick, unless. Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing. For every tatter in its mortal dress, Nor is there singing school but studying. Monuments of its own magnificence; And therefore I have sailed the seas and come. To the holy city of Byzantium. The second stanza says that the poet, as an old man, is sailing to Byzantium from Ireland. In the first stanza, he.