Robert Nichols
Meanwhile, though nations in distress
Cower at a comet’s loveliness
Shaken across the midnight sky;
Though the wind roars, and Victory,
A virgin fierce, on vans of gold
Stoops through the cloud’s white smother rolled
Over the armies’ shock and flow
Across the broad green hills below,
Yet hovers and will not circle down
To cast t’ward one the leafy crown;
Though men drive galleys’ golden beaks
To isles beyond the sunset peaks,
And cities on the sea behold
Whose walls are glass, whose gates are gold,
Whose turrets, risen in an hour,
Dazzle between the sun and shower,
Whose sole inhabitants are kings
Six cubits high with gryphon’s wings
And beard and mien more glorious
Than Midas or Assaracus;
Though priests in many a a hill-top fane
Lift anguished hands — and lift in vain —
Toward the sun’s shaft dancing through
The bright roof’s square of wind-swept blue;
Though ‘cross the stars nightly arise
The silver fumes of sacrifice;
Though a new Helen bring new scars
Pyres piled upon wrecked golden cars,
Stacked spears, rolled smoke, and spirits sped
Like a streaked flame toward the dead:
Though all these be, yet grows not old
Delight of sunned and windy wold,
Of soaking downs aglare, asteam,
Of still tarns where the yellow gleam
Of a far sunrise slowly breaks,
Or sunset strews with golden flakes
The deeps which soon the stars will throng.
For earth yet keeps her undersong
Of comfort and of ultimate peace,
That whoso seeks shall never cease
To hear at dawn or noon or night.
Joys hath she, too, joys thin and bright,
Too thin, too bright, for those to hear
Who listen with an eager ear,
Or course about and seek to spy,
Within an hour, eternity.
First must the spirit cast aside
This world’s and next his own poor pride
And learn the universe to scan
More as a flower, less as a man.
Then shall he hear the lonely dead
Sing and the stars sing overhead,
And every spray upon the heath,
And larks above and ants beneath;
The stream shall take him in her arms;
Blue skies shall rest him in their calms;
The wind shall be a lovely friend,
And every leaf and bough shall bend
Over him with a lover’s grace.
The hills shall bare a perfect face
Full of a high solemnity;
The heavenly clouds shall weep, and be
Content as overhead they swim
To be high brothers unto him.
No more shall he feel pitched and hurled
Uncomprehended into this world;
For every place shall be his place,
And he shall recognize its face.
At dawn he shall upon his path;
No sword shall touch him, nor the wrath
Of the ranked crowd of clamorous men.
At even he shall home again,
And lay him down to sleep at ease,
One with the Night and the Night’s peace.
Ev’n Sorrow, to be escaped of none,
But a more deep communion
Shall be to him, and Death at last
No more dreaded than the Past,
Whose shadow in the brain of earth
Informs him now and gave him birth.
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem delves into the philosophical and emotional exploration of human connection with the natural world, and the journey of the spirit towards a deeper understanding of peace and unity. It paints a vivid contrast between the chaos of human ambition—represented by the grandeur of empires, gods, and sacrifices—and the quieter, more enduring joys of nature that can only be understood once one frees themselves from worldly pride and struggle.
The first stanza opens with a vivid imagery of cosmic events and human endeavor. Nations cower under the beauty of a comet, suggesting a tension between the awe of the universe and the struggles of the world. The comet’s loveliness stands in stark contrast to the bloodshed and the pursuit of glory below, with Victory portrayed as unattainable, hovering just out of reach. The mention of cities with golden walls and divine kings imbues the poem with a sense of grandeur and illusion, pointing to the ephemeral nature of human pursuits and how, despite their magnificence, they remain distant from the deeper spiritual truths the poem seeks to convey.
As the poem progresses, the imagery shifts towards the earth itself, which becomes a refuge from the chaotic ambitions of men. The “delight of sunned and windy wold” and the peaceful stillness of nature offer an alternative to the destructive forces of power and ambition. There’s an intrinsic beauty in the natural world, in the “thin and bright” joys that are not immediately grasped by those seeking immediate fulfillment. The idea that one must cast aside pride to truly experience these joys suggests that the material world, with its noise and hurry, clouds one’s capacity for peace. The poem’s true wisdom is found in the idea that understanding the universe requires a shift in perception—from seeing it through human ego to experiencing it as a part of the natural flow of life.
The central message in the latter part of the poem is that once one attains this perspective, nature and the universe itself become comforting and welcoming. The spirit is no longer tossed about by the tumult of life, but rather, the earth becomes a home. The “lonely dead” sing, the stars move above, and every leaf and bough seems to offer solace. There is a profound sense of belonging and unity with the world, a recognition that every aspect of nature, from the ants below to the clouds above, is a part of the individual’s greater journey.
The final verses explore the idea of peace with death and sorrow. The individual, having aligned themselves with the earth’s eternal rhythms, no longer fears death. Instead, they embrace it as part of a greater communion. Sorrow is not something to be escaped, but something that deepens one’s connection with the universe. Ultimately, death is no longer feared because it is understood as a continuation of the same process that gave the individual life.
This is a poem of transformation—an invitation to leave behind the chaos of human striving and seek a simpler, more profound connection with nature and the cosmos. It suggests that peace, understanding, and unity are not external goals to be achieved, but internal states of being to be discovered through humility, patience, and surrender. The image of the earth as a welcoming, eternal home is a powerful metaphor for the spiritual journey, urging readers to recognize the divine in the everyday and to embrace a more harmonious existence with the world around them.