Now is the midnight of the nations: dark Even as death, beside her blood-dark seas, Earth, like a mother in birth-agonies, Screams in her travail, and the planets hark Her million-throated terror. Naked, stark, Her torso writhes enormous, and her knees Shudder against the shadowed Pleiades, Wrenching the night's imponderable arc. Christ! What shall be delivered to the morn Out of these pangs, if ever indeed another Morn shall succeed this night, or this vast mother Survive to know the blood-spent offspring, torn From her racked flesh?—What splendor from the smother? What new-wing'd world, or mangled god still-born? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UTOPIA by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE HOCK-CART, OR HARVEST HOME by ROBERT HERRICK THE RUSTIC LAD'S LAMENT IN THE TOWN by DAVID MACBETH MOIR SIR JOHN FRANKLIN; ON THE CENTOTAPH IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by ALFRED TENNYSON THE THREE PLEASURES by JULIEN AUGUSTE PELAGE BRIZEUX EPOGRAM; LINES WRITTEN ON A WINDOW AT THE KING'S ARMS, DUMFRIES by ROBERT BURNS HAYING TIME IN VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY BALLAD TO THE TUNE - 'ONCE I LOVED A MAIDEN FAIR' by PATRICK CAREY |