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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DAY OF COMING DAYS by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON

Poet Analysis

First Line: BRIGHT SEAS CAST FAR UPON HER SHORE
Bright seas cast far upon her shore
Master of spirits! hear me: King of souls!

White flowers of flying spray:
I kneel before Thine altar, the long night,

The blossoms of her fields are more,
Besieging Thee with penetrable prayers;
Bright seas cast far upon her shore
Than blossomed yesterday:
And all I ask, light from the Face of God.
White flowers of flying spray:
The music of her winds and birds
Thy darkness Thou hast given me enough,
The blossoms of her fields are more,
Alone can tell the triumph words,
The dark clouds of Thine angry majesty:
Than blossomed yesterday:
Her children cannot say.
Now give me light! I cannot always walk
The music of her winds and birds

Surely beneath the full and starless night.
Alone can tell the triumph words,

Lighten me, fallen down, I know not where,
Her children cannot say.
The stars from solemn deeps look down
Save, to the shadows and the fear of death.
The stars from solemn deeps look down
In favour and delight:
Thy Saints in light see light, and sing for joy:
In favour and delight:
The glories of her day, they crown
Safe from the dark, safe from the dark and cold.
The glories of her day, they crown
With splendours of her night:
But from my dark comes only doubt of light:
With splendours of her night:
The queen of the adoring Gael,
Disloyalty, that trembles to despair.
The queen of the adoring Gael,
Their radiant mother, Inisfail,
Now bring me out of night, and with the sun
Their radiant mother, Inisfail,
Reigns, by divinest right.
Clothe me, and crown me with Thy seven stars,
Reigns, by divinest right.

Thy spirits in the hollow of Thine hand.


Thou from the still throne of Thy tabernacle

-1894
Wilt come to me in glory, O Lord God!

Thou wilt, I doubt Thee not: I worship Thee

Before Thine holy altar, the long night.
Else have I nothing in the world, but death:
Thine hounding winds rush by me day and night,
Thy seas roar in mine ears: I have no rest,
No peace, but am afflicted constantly,
Driven from wilderness to wilderness.
And yet Thou hast a perfect house of light,
Above the four great winds, an house of peace:
Its beauty of the crystal and the dew,
Guard Angels and Archangels, in their hands
The blade of a sword shaken. Thither bring
Thy servant: when the black night falls on me,
With bitter voices tempting in the gloom,
Send out Thine armies, flaming ministers,
And shine upon the night: for what I would,
I cannot, save these help me. O Lord God!
Now, when my prayers upon Thine altar lie,
When Thy dark anger is too hard for me:
Though vision of Thyself, through flying fire,
Have mercy, and give light, and stablish me!




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