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Summer Morn in New Hampshire

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Written by Claude McKay

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 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.


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