“Die down, O dismal day”

David Gray (1838–1861)

DIE down, O dismal day, and let me live;

And come, blue deeps, magnificently strewn

With colored clouds,—large, light, and fugitive,—

By upper winds through pompous motions blown.

Now it is death in life,—a vapor dense

Creeps round my window, till I cannot see

The far snow-shining mountains, and the glens

Shagging the mountain-tops. O God! make free

This barren shackled earth, so deadly cold,—

Breathe gently forth thy spring, till winter flies

In rude amazement, fearful and yet bold,

While she performs her customed charities;

I weigh the loaded hours till life is bare,—

O God, for one clear day, a snowdrop, and sweet air!