October 26, 2013
The Clouded Morning
by Jones Very
 
 

The morning comes, and thickening clouds prevail,

    Hanging like curtains all the horizon round,
Or overhead in heavy stillness sail;
    So still is day, it seems like night profound;
Scarce by the city's din the air is stirred,
    And dull and deadened comes its every sound;
The cock's shrill, piercing voice subdued is heard,
    By the thick folds of muffling vapors drowned.
Dissolved in mists the hills and trees appear,
    Their outlines lost and blended with the sky;
And well-known objects, that to all are near,
    No longer seem familiar to the eye,
But with fantastic forms they mock the sight,
As when we grope amid the gloom of night.
 

  

 

 

  

Today's poem is in the public domain. 

About This Poem
Poetry by Very

(University of Georgia Press, 1993)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Launched during National Poetry Month in 2006, Poem-A-Day features new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends. Browse the Poem-A-Day Archive.  
 

Jones Very was born in Salem, Massachusetts in 1813. He entered Harvard as a sophomore in 1834, and quickly distinguished himself there as an essayist and classical scholar. His poems grew out of an increasingly intense mysticism, which resulted in his dismissal from Harvard and his eventual institutionalization in an insane asylum. When he was released in 1839, Ralph Waldo Emerson helped him publish his collection Essays and Poems. Very lived the rest of his life as a recluse, publishing poetry only sparingly until his death in 1880. 

 


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