Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ONE NIGHT, by JOHN FREEMAN Poet's Biography First Line: I cannot see. Gone now is all that brightness Last Line: Calls, and each silence deeper sounds for song that was. Subject(s): Night; Sleep; Bedtime | ||||||||
I CANNOT see. Gone now is all that brightness That was the moon between unclouding leaves. Among wet boughs I wander as one sightless, A breathing, moving tree That of the nightly dew his life receives. Eyes might no sharper beauty bring to me Than smell, touch, hearing leaf'd with sudden energy. It is the earth I snuff, the rooted trees Breathing as I breathe now at every cell: The earth I hear, sleep-moving in slow ease After the long, long day: The earth I touch, when the brush'd brambles spill Their dews, and the wet leaves of elder spray, Beam, briony, hawthorn snare me on my undirected way. Eyes might no brighter beauty than this gloom Bring to the burning mindthe burning mind That lights even time's sickness with its bloom. Here in this wood of night, Where sleep and waking change as a soft wind Falling and rising, here the dark is bright, And leaves and dews and blossoms stream with inward light. Is it that sharper senses now are mine, Or is it earth and dew and green are sweeter, And the unsteady wind more distant-fine With the primal air? Are all these no more than the shadowy matter That dreams make play with, and no substance bear More than the drifted smoke that, thinning, is seen nowhere? It cannot be that these are less than I. Sweet, sweet, sweet is the green smell of the grass Not my love's hair smells sweeter, nor her eye Purer than the unseen dew. Cold, cold as dawn the rustling as I pass Of heavy branches, cold and sweet; and through The branches sound wild voices, soft airs old and new. In this bright dark I stray. And halted now, My hand on the mossed body of a tree Shedding her weightless dews from every bough Upon the dense-leaved ground, I too sway when the wind draws over me Soft-moving fingers; I too am earth-bound By sudden running roots with the tree's roots enwound. And the tree quivers while my hand's at rest, Quivers because the wind is whispering her, Pressing a little, sinking upon her breast, And now falling asleep; Quivering because my spirit it was did stir, And not the wind, my branches now that sweep Her branches, and my thoughts that into her thought creep. I do not know what far-drawn airs divine, Late-muted, through the wood's notes now are breaking; What angel, from an undreamed sky, within The darkness of the leaves The long earth trance from her pure spirit is shaking. An inward quickening in the branches heaves, And of that fitful stir a solemn music weaves. It draws through all her boughs and droops and lifts While darkness like a bird shakes in his nest, Then sleeps; and wild or grave the music drifts Distant, and once more nears And dewlike falls on the heart's long unrest. So with that music sleep all wanton fears And thoughts perverse and pain of unforgotten years. ... Calm in the music that is earth's, yet more Than earth unstarred by heavenly light may breathe. No lovely uncontenting earthly shore Such music knows, to break Tranc'd numbness and foreshadowings of death; Even this tree might not with such airs shake Save in its bosom'd shade the heavenly singer wake. Ends the calm thus?The song ends, the tree quivers, Her breast shrinks from my hand, and my hand falls. In a harsh air the branches shake their rivers Coldly upon the grass. But still one night-bird to another calls Between long silences while dark hours pass Calls, and each silence deeper sounds for song that was. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BREATH OF NIGHT by RANDALL JARRELL HOODED NIGHT by ROBINSON JEFFERS NIGHT WITHOUT SLEEP by ROBINSON JEFFERS WORKING OUTSIDE AT NIGHT by DENIS JOHNSON POEM TO TAKE BACK THE NIGHT by JUNE JORDAN COOL DARK ODE by DONALD JUSTICE POEM TO BE READ AT 3 A.M by DONALD JUSTICE |
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