Summer Morn in New Hampshire

Summer Morn in New Hampshire

By Claude McKay

 

All yesterday it poured, and all night long

    I could not sleep; the rain unceasing beat

Upon the shingled roof like a weird song,

    Upon the grass like running children’s feet.

And down the mountains by the dark cloud kissed,

    Like a strange shape in filmy veiling dressed,

Slid slowly, silently, the wraith-like mist,

    And nestled soft against the earth’s wet breast.

But lo, there was a miracle at dawn!

    The still air stirred at touch of the faint breeze,

The sun a sheet of gold bequeathed the lawn,

    The songsters twittered in the rustling trees.

And all things were transfigured in the day,

    But me whom radiant beauty could not move;

For you, more wonderful, were far away,

    And I was blind with hunger for your love.

 

If you have seen the news, you probably know that there has been a lot of flooding in Northern New York and Vermont. In most of the towns around me, there has been some flooding as the local rivers have overrun their banks. Thankfully, I live on high ground, so I am not in any danger, though what the roads will look like on my way to work this morning is anyone’s guess. I will watch the morning news hoping I will hear more about road conditions.

 

I picked the above poem because the rain began Sunday afternoon and is supposed to continue through the early hours of this morning. Hopefully, it will have stopped by the time I leave for work. It poured all day yesterday.

 

About the Poet

 

Claude McKay, who was born in Jamaica in 1889, wrote about social and political concerns from his perspective as a Black man in the United States, as well as a variety of subjects ranging from his Jamaican homeland to romantic love.