Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SUNDAY, by LOUIS UNTERMEYER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: It was sunday-/ eleven in the morning; people were at / church Last Line: It was sunday! Alternate Author Name(s): Lewis, Michael Subject(s): Insanity; Marching & Marches; Sabbath; Social Protest; Madness; Mental Illness; Sunday | ||||||||
IT was Sunday Eleven in the morning; people were at church Prayers were in the making; God was near at hand Down the cramped and narrow streets of quiet Lawrence Came the tramp of workers marching in their hundreds; Marching in the morning, marching to the grave-yard, Where, no longer fiery, underneath the grasses, Callous and uncaring, lay their friend and sister. In their hands they carried wreaths and drooping flowers, Overhead their banners dipped and soared like eagles Aye, but eagles bleeding, stained with their own heart's-blood Red, but not for gloryred, with wounds and travail, Red, the buoyant symbol of the blood of all the world... So they bore their banners, singing toward the grave-yard, So they marched and chanted, mingling tears and tributes, So, with flowers, the dying went to deck the dead. Within the churches people heard The sound, and much concern was theirs God might not hear the Sacred Word God might not hear their prayers! Should such things be allowed these slaves To vex the Sabbath peace with Song, To come with chants, like marching waves, That proudly swept along... Suppose God turned to theseand heard! Suppose He listened unawares God might forget the Sacred Word, God might forget their prayers! And so (oh, tragic irony) The blue-clad Guardians of the Peace Were sent to sweep them backto see The ribald song should cease; To scatter those who came and vexed God with their troubled cries and cares. Quietso God might hear the text; The sleek and unctuous prayers! Up the rapt and singing streets of little Lawrence, Came the stolid soldiers; and, behind the blue-coats, Grinning and invisible, bearing unseen torches, Rode red hordes of anger, sweeping all before them. Lust and Evil joined themTerror rode among them; Fury fired its pistols; Madness stabbed and yelled... Through the wild and bleeding streets of shuddering Lawrence, Raged the heedless panic, hour-long and bitter. Passion tore and trampled; men once mild and peaceful, Fought with savage hatred in the name of Law and Order. And, below the outcry, like the sea beneath the breakers, Mingling with the anguish, rolled the solemn organ... Eleven in the morningpeople were at church Prayers were in the makingGod was near at hand It was Sunday! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAT GAL O' MINE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SUNDAY: NEW GUINEA by KARL SHAPIRO SABBATHS: 2001 by WENDELL BERRY SUNDAYSUNDAYSUNDAYSUNDAYSUNDAY by PAUL BLACKBURN THE SABBATH OF THE SOUL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THOSE WINTER SUNDAYS by ROBERT EARL HAYDEN A BIRTHDAY by LOUIS UNTERMEYER A VOICE FROM THE SWEAT-SHOPS (A HYMN WITH RESPONSES) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER |
|