A Dark Month
By Algernon Charles Swinburne
3 Dec, 2019
A month without sight of the sunRising or reigning or settingThrough days without use of the day,Who calls it the month of May?The sense of the name is undoneAnd the sound of it fit for forgetting.
We shall not feel if the sun rise,We shall not ca
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A month without sight of the sunRising or reigning or settingThrough days without use of the day,Who calls it the month of May?The sense of the name is undoneAnd the sound of it fit for forgetting.
We shall not feel if the sun rise,We shall not care when it sets:If a nightingale make night's airAs noontide, why should we care?Till a light of delight that is done rise,Extinguishing grey regrets;
Till a child's face lighten againOn the twilight of older faces;Till a child's voice fall as the dewOn furrows with heat parched throughAnd all but hopeless of grain,Refreshing the desolate places— Less