[977] The Darkling Thrush

Guest poem sent in by Neha Kumar <skiesofblue@>

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
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.

    -- Thomas Hardy

      (31 December, 1900)

Note: Originally titled "By the Century's Deathbed"

We did this poem in high school, before the turn of the century, and I
recall how we spent quite a bit of time discussing the date the poem was
written. Apparently, at that time it was understood that the 19th century
turned to the 20th on 1st January 1901 (rightly so).

Anyway, here's some additional information for those interested:

"... to commemorate the occasion, Hardy composed a poem originally titled
"By the Century's Deathbed" which was published under that name in the
Graphic on 19 December 1900. It later was renamed "The Darkling Thrush", and
has been published under that title ever since. It is considered by many to
be one of Hardy's finest poems. It is included in his 1901 collection titled
Poems of the Past and the Present, and, though written several weeks
earlier, is dated 31 December 1900.

The year 1900 was not kind to Thomas Hardy. His marriage to Emma had become
strained; she sat in her upper room writing letters and dabbling in poetry;
he sat alone in his Max Gate study writing letters and serious poetry.
Sickness in Emma's family had caused her to be absent from Max Gate for
prolonged periods, upsetting the daily routine so important to Hardy. Two of
Emma's cousins had been resident at Max Gate for several weeks, another
upsetting anxiety in his domestic life.

Thus, at year's end, as the 19th century drew its last breaths, Hardy
composed his thoughts at that time. He portrays a wistfully gloomy, wintry
world, "as fervourless as I". Yet, within that colorless scene, a thrush
sings a joyful, hopeful carol. This is classic Hardy: always hoping for the
best even within the context of a conviction of the worst."

have a great new year!
neha

From: Suresh Ramasubramanian <suresh@>

> Guest poem sent in by Neha Kumar <skiesofblue@>
> 'The Darkling Thrush'
>  I leant upon a coppice gate
>  When Frost was spectre-gray,

Woo... memories.  I remember this back in class VIII or something like that -
and I liked it a lot, thanks to my having an English teacher who rather
enjoyed poetry and had a really good taste in poems.  Mrs.Padmini Unni, at
Gitanjali School, Hyderabad, for what its worth (and if any Gitanjali alumni
are lurking out there ...)

Thanks, Neha, for waking up assorted long-buried memories.

> Thus, at year's end, as the 19th century drew its last breaths, Hardy 
> composed his thoughts at that time. He portrays a wistfully gloomy, wintry 
> world, "as fervourless as I". Yet, within that colorless scene, a thrush 
> sings a joyful, hopeful carol. This is classic Hardy: always hoping for the 
> best even within the context of a conviction of the worst."

Hoping for the best?  Makes a change from Hardy's prose, which is so
wonderfully depressing that I shudder to think what'd happen if I combined

1. A good Hardy book (Jude the Obscure, say) with all its blasted heaths and
suffering, mentally tortured characters.  I wouldn't pick his "The Trumpet
Major" for this though - it is light hearted, joyful ... real fun.

2. Pink Floyd in the background (Wish You Were Here, perhaps?)

3. A sufficiently strenuous day at work

Hmmmmm.. perhaps ought to try that once and see.  Should be fun.  

> have a great new year!

Wish you all the same - and thanks again for a lovely poem.

Oh by the way, speaking of depression and the (near) future, here's a Yeats
poem - The Second Coming - www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/289.html

-- 
Suresh Ramasubramanian + suresh <@> kcircle.com
Friday@ + http://www.kcircle.com
To err is human, to forgive is Not Company Policy.

From: Kattymaus1@

Hey over there,
I'm an English student from Germany and at the end of the term I have to 
write an exam about Thomas Hardys "The darkling thrush". So, if you have any 
information for me, please send it!!! That would be very nice!!
Thanks, Kathrin

From: abdasalam ehnish <abdaslam4e@>

hi 


---------------------------------
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Hotjobs: Enter the "Signing Bonus" Sweepstakes

From: "asma khanom" <asma.khanom@>

this poem sounds sooooo depressing but thats all i can gather from it i
would really appreciate a bit info on it like whats he really going on
about a line by line explanation would be nice if i could get it lol

From: asma khanom <asma.khanom@>

hi jus wondering if u ever did get the information on the poem the darkling thrush as i am also a student looking for that information