Claude McKay

Summer Morn in New Hampshire

All yesterday it poured, and all night long 
I could not sleep; the rain unceasing beat 
Upon the shingled roof like a weird song, 
Upon the grass like running children’s feet. 
And down the mountains by the dark cloud kissed, 
Like a strange shape in filmy veiling dressed, 
Slid slowly, silently, the wraith-like mist, 
And nestled soft against the earth’s wet breast. 

But lo, there was a miracle at dawn! 
The still air stirred at touch of the faint breeze, 
The sun a sheet of gold bequeathed the lawn, 
The songsters twittered in the rustling trees. 
And all things were transfigured in the day, 
But me whom radiant beauty could not move; 
For you, more wonderful, were far away, 
And I was blind with hunger for your love.

English Poetry - E-mail