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.