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Poem by Robert William Service


Days


I am a Day...
My sky is grey,
My wind is wild,
My sea high-piled:
In year of days the first
In misery...
Oh pity me!
I am a Day
Accurst.

"Sweet Day, not curst but blest:
Behold upon my breast
My baby born
Your early morn.
Safe in my arms alway...
Oh precious Day,
let tempest be,
You are to me
In heart of mine
Divine."

* * * * * * *

I am a Day...
From dawn's pure ray
Like to a peerless gem
In summer's diadem,
My sky so softly dreams,
my breeze is bland:
My sea is blue and creams
Upon the sand,
Behold! Of days the Queen
I reign serene.

"Oh Day, not blest but curst!
Let savage storm-rack burst,
i will not care...
For Lo! I bear
My baby's coffin to the height.
Ah! Would it were the foulest night
To match my mood''s
Ingratitude.
I cannot not pray...
Go your fell way,
Accursed Day!"



Robert William Service


Robert William Service's other poems:
  1. Pullman Porter
  2. Trees against the Sky
  3. The Three Voices
  4. Mammy
  5. Young Mother


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