Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE NESTING SWALLOWS, by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The summer day was spoiled with fitful storm. Last Line: To make me glad and grateful. That is all. Subject(s): Nature; Summer; Swallows | ||||||||
The summer day was spoiled with fitful storm. At night the wind died and the soft rain dropped with lulling murmur, and the air was warm. And all the tumult and the trouble stopped. We sat within the bright and quiet room glowing with light and flowers and friendliness; and faces in the radiance seemed to bloom touched into beauty as by a caress. And one struck music from the ivory keys Beethoven's music. And the awful chords upbore us like the waves of mighty seas that sing aloud, "All glory is the Lord's!" And the great sound awoke, beneath the eaves, the nestling swallows. And their twittering cry with the light touch of raindrops on the leaves broke into the grand surging melody. Across its deep tremendous questioning, its solemn acquiescence, low and clear, the rippling notes ran sweetwith airy ring surprised, inquiring, but devoid of fear; lapsing to silence at the music's close a dreamy clamor, a contented stir. "It made no discord," smiling as he rose, said the great master's great interpreter. No discord, truly. Ever nature weaves her sunshine with her shadow, joy with pain: the asking thunder through high heaven that cleaves is lost in the low ripple of the rain. About the edges of the dread abyss the innocent blossoms laugh toward the sun. Questions of life and death, of bale or bliss a thousand tender touches overrun. Why should I chronicle so slight a thing? But such things light up life like wayside flowers, and memory, like a bird with folded wing, broods with still joy o'er such delicious hours. Dear unforgotten time. Fair summer night! Thy nestling swallows and thy dropping rain, the golden music and the faces bright will steal with constant sweetness back again: a joy to keep when winter darkness comes, a living sense of beauty to recall, a warm bright thought when bitter cold benumbs, to make me glad and grateful. That is all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIXTH-MONTH SONG IN THE FOOTHILLS by GARY SNYDER SWALLOW FLIGHT by SARA TEASDALE EACH SUMMER'S SWALLOWS by JOHN UPDIKE THE DEPARTURE OF THE SWALLOW by WILLIAM HOWITT THE BLUE SWALLOWS by HOWARD NEMEROV THE CLIFF SWALLOWS by DEBRA NYSTROM MAY MORNING by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER SPANIARDS' GRAVES AT THE ISLES OF SHOALS by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER |
|