Sunday, January 4, 2015

Snow Dusk / David Morton

Snow Dusk

The iron twilight closes, and the steep
     Gates of the day where late the light was hurled,
Swing to on silent hinges, and a sleep,
     A still, white sleep is fallen on the world.
There is no stir these trackless miles around:
     The Earth is turned a grey cathedral close,
Where is forgot all motion and all sound,
     Beneath these smooth, obliterating snows.

One burning taper trembles . . . and the sky
     Curves like a dome where cloudy anthems are,
Above immaculate distances that lie
     In thoughtful adoration of a star . . .
Earth has her veil, and takes her silent vow:
Nothing save holiness is left her now.

David Morton (1886-1957)
from Ships in Harbor, and other poems, 1921

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the United States]

David Morton biography

No comments:

Post a Comment