Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG OF A WEARY WORLD, by EDEN PHILLPOTTS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG OF A WEARY WORLD, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Through space dimensionless and starry seas
Last Line: Ere darkness fall again.


THROUGH space dimensionless and starry seas
I wheel and wonder at my sun's command,
Whither the Mother's everlasting hand
Beckons from Hercules.

Again and yet again I ring my road;
Again pursue my weary march in time;
Across the glimmering abysses climb,
Groaning beneath my load.

The grief of many a golden galaxy
I pass from day to night, from night to day,
Blind and obedient, shrivelled, old and grey—
My song sunk to a sigh.

There was a time when, as a planet-child,
I gloried; Alma Venus from her place
Bent low to scan my new-created face,
And saw it good, and smiled.

In joy she rose and swiftly came to me,
Reaping ripe stars and sowing as she came;
Life, Life she brought! A dawn of living flame
Flashed over earth and sea.

Yet as she planted she was very sad,
And watered all the breast of me with tears.
She saw the dolours of unnumbered years;
I, seeing not, was glad.

Until came Man, out of the ages blown—
A shining master-jewel on the crest
Of the last wave that Life had upward pressed—
And claimed me for his own.

At first I joyed in him as forth he leapt:
My firstborn blessed with power to understand.
But lo! he lifted matricidal hand,
And Alma Venus wept.

At first I joyed in him as at a boon;
Then wakened evil on my startled face,
Until I cursed this comprehending race,
And envied the dead moon.

Oh hear my cry, oh hear my cry, ye stars!
This good round breast he tortures to his ends;
He burrows, slaughters, scatters, rives, and rends.
My very heart he mars.

His habitations fester on my breast;
His galleys maculate my ocean foam;
He spies where all my secret treasures home—
Ultimate scourge and pest!

He peeps below; he probes and plagues above;
Poisons my land and fouls my pure, salt sea;
He seeks and finds and tears away from me
The last wild things I love.

His purposes and good, his rights and wrongs,
Choke the sweet air; the clamours of his claim
Deafen my ear, deride his Mother's aim,
And strangle Nature's songs.

Lusting and lying, murdering his kind—
Each stronger kingdom at a weaker's throat—
He shrieks for ever the discordant note,
This monster with a mind.

Dust of my dust—last and supremest race
Of races rolling on from age to age—
The conscious, in their awful pilgrimage,
Madden the eyes of space.

Oh build upon his bones a better thing;
Add yet a link to life's eternal chain;
Depose humanity, or once again
Thy primal silence bring.

Heed my long agonies, and let them cease;
Lighten the horror of my endless woe;
From off this bleeding bosom bid him go
And give thy planet peace.

But if thou shalt ordain we never part,
Then, Mother, pity me in pitying him;
Despatch thy swiftest, gold-winged seraphim
With Reason to his heart.

Send them and this thy gift; let Reason reign,
So that a reconciliation come
Between the children and their ancient home,
Ere darkness fall again.





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