Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE FORLORN, by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The night is dark, the stinging sleet Last Line: To die in maiden innocence. | ||||||||
THE night is dark, the stinging sleet, Swept by the bitter gusts of air, Drives whistling down the lonely street, And stiffens on the pavement bare. The street-lamps flare and struggle dim Through the white sleet-clouds as they pass, Or, governed by a boisterous whim, Drop down and rattle on the glass. One poor, heart-broken, outcast girl Faces the east-wind's searching flaws, And, as about her heart they whirl, Her tattered cloak more tightly draws. The flat brick walls look cold and bleak, Her bare feet to the sidewalk freeze; Yet dares she not a shelter seek, Though faint with hunger and disease. The sharp storm cuts her forehead bare, And, piercing through her garments thin, Beats on her shrunken breast, and there Makes colder the cold heart within. She lingers where a ruddy glow Streams outward through an open shutter, Adding more bitterness to woe, More loneness to desertion utter. One half the cold she had not felt Until she saw this gush of light Spread warmly forth, and seem to melt Its slow way through the deadening night. She hears a woman's voice within, Singing sweet words her childhood knew, And years of misery and sin Furl off, and leave her heaven blue. Her freezing heart, like one who sinks Outwearied in the drifting snow, Drowses to deadly sleep and thinks No longer of its hopeless woe: Old fields, and clear blue summer days, Old meadows, green with grass and trees, That shimmer through the trembling haze And whiten in the western breeze, -- Old faces, -- all the friendly past Rises within her heart again, And sunshine from her childhood cast Makes summer of the icy rain. Enhaloed by a mild, warm glow, From all humanity apart, She hears old footsteps wandering slow Through the lone chambers of the heart. Outside the porch before the door, Her cheek upon the cold, hard stone, She lies, no longer foul and poor, No longer dreary and alone. Next morning something heavily Against the opening door did weigh, And there, from sin and sorrow free, A woman on the threshold lay. A smile upon the wan lips told That she had found a calm release, And that, from out the want and cold, The song had borne her soul in peace. For, whom the heart of man shuts out, Sometimes the heart of God takes in, And fences them all round about With silence mid the world's loud din; And one of his great charities Is Music, and it doth not scorn To close the lids upon the eyes Of the polluted and forlorn; Far was she from her childhood's home, Farther in guilt had wandered thence, Yet thither it had bid her come To die in maiden innocence. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN INTERVIEW WITH MILES STANDISH by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL AUF WIEDERSEHEN! SUMMER by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL AUSPEX by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL BEAVER BROOK by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL COMMEMORATION ODE READ AT HARVARD UNIVERSITY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL IN A COPY OF OMAR KHAYYAM by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL IN THE TWILIGHT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL LINES; SUGGESTED BY GRAVES TWO ENGLISH SOLDIERS ON CONCORD by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL MY LOVE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL ON BOARD THE '76; WRITTEN FOR BRYANT'S SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL |
|