Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE YELLOW CLOUD, by CHARLES LOUIS HENRY WAGNER First Line: A cloud, a yellow cloud, and deep and dense Last Line: No more I'll fear again. Fear is not real. Subject(s): Fear; Sun | ||||||||
A cloud, a yellow cloud, and deep and dense (Methought the farmer-gods burned saffron pitch Or damped the stubble from their garnered fields To smother flame, save for a breath to fan Their slow consuming fire) it rose. The sun, My laughing, joyous sun, that sang of Hope And gave me life, a poet's lifeyea, more Was lost to view, and, but for truant rays, Tinged with a yellow cast, the day was done, And with a rush the winds of Heaven shook And swayed the giants of my little world, I thought them strong (I mean the oaks and pines My sires planted in the bygone years), Some fell, their roots exposed a worthless clay, But most stood firm, though beat by scourging blasts And hissed by mocking Voices of the winds. And II was afraid. I looked, and lo! In the blackening deeps of the cloud I saw (As though I had gazed on a silvered glass That mirrored the deeds of a demon world) A picture of War! Men mounted and afoot, Guns, weltering steel, man's vulture-like planes, The gray of the froth-churning fleets of the sea, The eye of the seeing yet shadowless boat Still lying beneath the crests of the waves; All this did I see, and more. In the west Leered a Mongol face with a jealous hate Expressed thereon. And then a shadow hand Wrote with a blood-dipped pen (a broken spear) These dismal words"For you to come, for you!" I closed my eyes, the Coward-thought had gripped And held me boundand then, to view again I opened them. Behold! That yellow cloud Had almost disappeared. Its fleeting fringe Formed on the blue of the heavenly bowl As though it were writ by the Maker's hand, The one word "Fear." I knelt, and understood; The sun drove off the winds. My little world Once more rejoiced; the fallen trees I left That I might be reminded of these truths; Fear is a cloud, a shadow, seeming real, Portentous glooms give way to joyous suns, The winds of doubt can but uproot the weak, No more I'll fear again. Fear is not real. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOURNEY INTO THE EYE by DAVID LEHMAN AGAINST EXCESS OF SEA OR SUN OR REASON by WILLIAM MEREDITH WHY I WAKE EARLY by MARY OLIVER CONTRA MORTEM: THE SUN by HAYDEN CARRUTH SERPENT SUN EYE BEWITCHING MY EYE by AIME CESAIRE A DROP OF INK by CHARLES LOUIS HENRY WAGNER |
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