Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FOR DARK DAYS, by THOMAS STURGE MOORE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FOR DARK DAYS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Ah, when a fair day finds me cold to it
Last Line: Glad to see other eyes forget life's ills.
Alternate Author Name(s): Moore, T. Sturge


AH, when a fair day finds me cold to it
Who should be friendlier far,
Or when the night seems too august, so lit
With tranquil star on star;
They ban unworthy every thought of mine,
That once seemed symbols meant
To help my sense express my soul and shine
Equal to that event
Which any hour creation thrusts on man,
Who, inattentive, weak,
Feels the vast spectacle surpass his will
Which would respond to it, and sometimes can
Find thoughts as grand, as beautiful, and fill
As though a voice did speak
Ocean, sky, cloud-land, valley, plain and hill;

Then, then, abhorrent, wasted human life,
All life of beast and pest
Maintained by rapine, lust, and strife,
I hate and would arrest:
-- Stay thou to multiply thy cruel wealth;
And cease thou to cajole,
Stealing from that young girl her thoughtless health,
Her joy and self-control;
-- Thou tiger, leave defenceless herds alone;
-- Thou shark, submit to law;
'Tis your example circumscribes my thought.
Collusion with your ruthless greed has thrown
So strong a spell that now my mind is brought
To horror down from awe,
And all I find doth mock all I have sought.

-- Oh, it is nothing that a day is fair,
If life cannot be sweet!
If souls cannot be lovers, and if care
School not desire's feet!
If always generations generations breed,
And race give place to race
Sapped by inadequacy, doomed to bleed
And, dying, pine for grace!
Only if fact can answer reason's prayer
Both in one life and all,
And in resultant beauty souls be good;
Only if towards that goal each day we fare,
And never stand below where we have stood
Answer I to your call,
Ye stars, or yours, ye flowers of field and wood.

Yet is all vain? vain then this sad surmise;
For still unknown our doom;
Yet we have fancies, can enchant our eyes,
Paint bliss upon the gloom;
We have some strength, though it be not enough
The vast whole to transform;
It can spread lawns where yet the waste is rough,
Some blossom shield from storm;
Our strength can make fair skies its harvest fields,
And glean from cloud and star;
The grace of trees, the calm of distant hills
Garner, and add what every flower yields
To feed a beauty and a light that fills
Our eyes, when those eyes are
Glad to see other eyes forget life's ills.





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