The darkling thrush

Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy’s poem “The Darkling Thrush” was first published on 29 December 1900 in the newspaper “The Graphic”, and later included in Hardy’s 1901 collection “Poems of the Past and the Present”. Originally titled “By the Century’s Deathbed”, the poem may have been written in 1899, according to a deleted mark in the poem’s manuscript.

Thomas Hardy was born on 2 June 1840 in Dorset, England, and he died on 11 January 1928 in Dorset, England, at the age of 87.

A Victorian realist in the tradition of George Eliot, Hardy was influenced both in his novels and in his poetry by Romanticism. He was highly critical of much in Victorian society, especially on the declining status of rural people in Britain. While Hardy wrote poetry throughout his life and regarded himself primarily as a poet, his first collection was not published until 1898. Initially, he gained fame as the author of novels. Many of his novels concern tragic characters struggling against their passions and social circumstances.

External links:

Posted: 14 March 2023
Word length: 145
Video length: 2:16

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

More by Thomas Hardy