Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A WASTED ILLNESS, by THOMAS HARDY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Through vaults of pain Last Line: To reach that door. Subject(s): Sickness; Illness | ||||||||
THROUGH vaults of pain, Enribbed and wrought with groins of ghastliness, I passed, and garish spectres moved my brain To dire distress. And hammerings, And quakes, and shoots, and stifling hotness, blent With webby waxing things and waning things As on I went. 'Where lies the end To this foul way?' I asked with weakening breath. Thereon ahead I saw a door extend - The door to Death. It loomed more clear: 'At last!' I cried. 'The all-delivering door!' And then, I knew not how, it grew less near Than theretofore. And back slid I Along the galleries by which I came, And tediously the day returned, and sky, And life - the same. And all was well: Old circumstance resumed its former show, And on my head the dews of comfort fell As ere my woe. I roam anew, Scarce conscious of my late distress.... And yet Those backward steps to strength I cannot view Without regret. For that dire train Of waxing shapes and waning, passed before, And those grim chambers, must be ranged again To reach that door. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SICK CHILD by RANDALL JARRELL AFTERNOON AT MACDOWELL by JANE KENYON HAVING IT OUT WITH MELANCHOLY by JANE KENYON SONNET: 9. HOPE by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES AND THERE WAS A GREAT CALM' by THOMAS HARDY |
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