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Poetry Sunday: The Darkling Thrush by Thomas Hardy

Blessings on all the winter birds who cheer us with their "full-hearted evensongs" flung "upon the growing gloom." Hope is scarce on the ground at the moment and we need that cheer. 

The Darkling Thrush

by Thomas Hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate
      When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
      The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
      Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
      Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
      The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
      The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
      Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
      Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
      The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
      Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
      In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
      Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
      Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
      Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
      His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
      And I was unaware.

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Comments

  1. David M. Gascoigne,February 2, 2025 at 6:04 AM

    “Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew, And I was unaware.” Speaks volumes today, doesn’t it?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersFebruary 2, 2025 at 10:20 AM

      As I was searching for a poem to feature and, perhaps, for some hope to comfort myself amid the deepening gloom of the daily news, this one fairly jumped out at me, shouting "Here I am!"

      Delete
  2. AlanaFebruary 2, 2025 at 8:58 AM

    I miss hearing birds in the winter. And yet....I am hearing them some each day now and it is the sound of hope. They must know something I don't.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersFebruary 2, 2025 at 10:21 AM

      They know that spring is coming and they'd better practice their courtship tunes!

      Delete
  3. jabblogFebruary 2, 2025 at 10:24 AM

    Busy birds in my garden and the foxes woke me in the small hours with their unholy screams and lamentations, so winter is definitely coming to an end.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Lark February 3, 2025 at 2:46 PM

    No one writes poetry like Hardy. I love it! :D

    ReplyDelete
  5. Deb Nance at ReaderbuzzFebruary 5, 2025 at 5:59 AM

    And if anything might be feeling deeply worried about the world, it might be birds. It's great to imagine they see the other side of what is going on.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersFebruary 5, 2025 at 9:35 AM

      Who knows what they truly see and understand? Their intelligence is so different from our own.

      Delete

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