The Clouded Morning

Jones Very 1813 (Salem) – 1880



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.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

34 sec read
26

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABABCBCBDEDEFF
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 638
Words 112
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 14

Jones Very

Jones Very was an American poet, essayist, clergymen, and mystic associated with the American Transcendentalism movement. more…

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