Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MIDWINTER MOON OVER THE CITY, by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MIDWINTER MOON OVER THE CITY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The tarnished moon spins upward like a piece
Last Line: Which, to this land of tears, the gods have sent.
Subject(s): London; Moon


THE tarnished moon spins upward like a piece
Cast by some starving loafer on a bar,
To buy that poison which may give release
An instant, from the weight of things that are.
'Mid the grey chill which makes the blood run slow,
'Mid intellectual women coarse and cold,
'Mid sentimental joy and silly woe,
'Mid all the misery of a land grown old:
Mid thin black clouds like ragged strips of crepe
Upon a pauper's hearse, she makes her way;
Bound to a wheel from which is no escape,
Towards the dull grey mockery of a day.
A little nearer, then, that frozen death
Which will conclude our childish discontent
'Gainst grim endurance of each painful breath
Which, to this land of tears, the gods have sent.





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