A July Day
To-day the sun has stedfast been and clear —
No wind has marred the spell of hushful heat,
But, with the twilight, comes a rush and beat
Of ghost-like wings; the sky turns grey and drear,
The trees are stricken with a sudden fear.
O wind forlorn, that sayeth nothing sweet,
With what foreboding message dost them greet
The dearest month but one of all the year?
Ah, now it seems I catch the moan of seas
Whose boundaries are pale regions of dismay,
Where sad-eyed people wander without ease;
I see in thought that lamentable array,
And surely hear about the dying day
Recorded dooms and mournful prophecies.
~~
Philip Bourke Marston (1850-1887)
from Wind-voices, 1883
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
Philip Bourke Marston biography
Martyn Gorman, Newburgh: An evening storm brews over the Ythan estuary, July 2010.
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