The inmost oratory of my soul, Wherein thou ever dwellest quick or dead, Is black with grief eternal for thy sake. As I came through the desert thus it was, As I came through the desert: Eyes of fire Glared at me throbbing with a starved desire; The hoarse and heavy and carnivorous breath Was hot upon me from deep jaws of death; Sharp claws, swift talons, fleshless fingers cold Plucked at me from the bushes, tried to hold: But I strode on austere; No hope could have no fear. James B.V. Thomson. For centuries melancholia was called the English Disease. }, "item": "https://www.poemhunter.com", "copyrightHolder": { Speak not of comfort where no comfort is, Speak not at all: can words make foul things fair? Williams asserts that, by the Victorian-era, the city had become a … Yet it is but for one night after all: What matters one brief night of dreary pain? The City is of Night, but not of Sleep; There sweet sleep is not for the weary brain; The pitiless hours like years and ages creep, A night seems termless hell. Buy The City of Dreadful Night, [and Other Poems] (Volume 2) by Thomson, James (ISBN: 9781151975300) from Amazon's Book Store. whence, whither, and for whom? The City is of Night, but not of Sleep; There sweet sleep is not for the weary brain; The pitiless hours like years and ages creep, A night seems termless hell. "@type": "ContactPoint", And now at last authentic word I bring, Witnessed by every dead and living thing; Good tidings of great joy for you, for all: There is no God; no Fiend with names divine Made us and tortures us; if we must pine, It is to satiate no Being's gall. A very attractive copy Edition First Edition Item Price $ } In spite of the unusual power and beauty of some of the poems—the exquisite "To Our Ladies of Death" was published as early as 1863—his work attracted little notice until 1874, when "The City of Dreadful Night" appeared. The city is not ruinous, although Great ruins of an unremembered past, With others of a few short years ago More sad, are found within its precincts vast. }, As I came through the desert thus it was, As I came through the desert: I was twain, Two selves distinct that cannot join again; One stood apart and knew but could not stir, And watched the other stark in swoon and her; And she came on, and never turned aside, Between such sun and moon and roaring tide: And as she came more near My soul grew mad with fear. XVII How the moon triumphs through the endless nights! I have seen phantoms there that were as men And men that were as phantoms flit and roam; Marked shapes that were not living to my ken, Caught breathings acrid as with Dead Sea foam: The City rests for man so weird and awful, That his intrusion there might seem unlawful, And phantoms there may have their proper home. And as they passed me, earnestly from each A morsel of his hope I did beseech, To pay my entrance; but all mocked my speech. "@type": "PostalAddress", The City is of Night; perchance of Death, But certainly of Night. EMBED (for wordpress.com hosted blogs and archive.org item tags) Want more? Other articles where The City of Dreadful Night is discussed: James Thomson: …his sombre, imaginative poem “The City of Dreadful Night,” a symbolic expression of … Surely I write not for the hopeful young, Or those who deem their happiness of worth, Or such as pasture and grow fat among The shows of life and feel nor doubt nor dearth, Or pious spirits with a God above them To sanctify and glorify and love them, Or sages who foresee a heaven on earth. Lee "City Of Dreadful Night" por James Thomson disponible en Rakuten Kobo. This dreadful strain Of thought and consciousness which never ceases, Or which some moments’ stupor but increases, This, worse than woe, makes wretches there insane. "contactType": "customer support", , { "telephone": "+1 (650) 488-8186", "name": "The City Of Dreadful Night", "streetAddress": "548 Market St. PMB 90333" The City of Dreadful Thirst. "name": "Poems", If Eliot's The Waste Land seems miserable, have a go at reading James Thomson's The City of Dreadful Night. Best-known for the epic poem “The City of Dreadful Night,” Thomson composed bleak portraits of urban and emotional landscapes. ", var cihaz_mobilmi = false; The city, in this … Quotes from all famous poets. "@id":"https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-city-of-dreadful-night/", "addressRegion": "San Francisco", O length of the intolerable hours, O nights that are as aeons of slow pain, O Time, too ample for our vital powers, O Life, whose woeful vanities remain Immutable for all of all our legions Through all the centuries and in all the regions, Not of your speed and variance WE complain. Produced & Read by Charles Bryant (This is not a reading of the whole poem, which would have taken too long, but of probably around a half of the matter.) they are so brief; A few short years must bring us all relief: Can we not bear these years of laboring breath? "foundingDate": "1998", function setCookieInMinutes(name, value, minutes) { Copyrighted poems are the property of the copyright holders. James Thomson's epic poem The City Of Dreadful Night first appeared in 1874 and acheived in its day some fame and was read by many, but in the decades that followed the poem and the poet sank into obscurity, becoming known only to a few. With these images, I sought to respond to the spaces or penumbra between Thomson’s words; to capture the poem’s feeling of dread, to transmute this to my own setting here in Trinidad and Tobago; to suggest his dread … "url": "https://poemhunter.com/assets/img/logo-footer.jpg", Nay, be assured; no secret can be told To any who divined it not before: None uninitiate by many a presage Will comprehend the language of the message, Although proclaimed aloud for evermore. \"Nay, does it treat him harshly as he saith? Betrayed! And then we heard a voice of solemn stress From the dark pulpit, and our gaze there met Two eyes which burned as never eyes burned yet: Two steadfast and intolerable eyes Burning beneath a broad and rugged brow; The head behind it of enormous size. }. From preaching to an audience fired with faith The Lamb who died to save our souls from death, Whose blood hath washed our scarlet sins wool-white: I wake from daydreams to this real night. for (var i = 0; i < ca.length; i++) { share. "contactPoint": [{ A trackless wilderness rolls north and west, Savannahs, savage woods, enormous mountains, Bleak uplands, black ravines with torrent fountains; And eastward rolls the shipless sea's unrest. ", I kneel here patient as thou liest there; As patient as a statue carved in stone, Of adoration and eternal grief. XVIII I wandered in a suburb of the north, And reached a spot whence three close lanes led down, Beneath thick trees and hedgerows winding forth Like deep brook channels, deep and dark and lown: The air above was wan with misty light, The dull grey south showed one vague blur of white. But soon A sharp and clashing noise the stillness broke, And from the evil lethargy I woke. Even Thomson himself was happy for a good deal of his life, and other’s among his collected poems, such as ‘Sunday Up the River’ are joyous celebrations of bourgeois domesticity. THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT AND OTHER POEMS by THOMSON, James Seller Charles Agvent Published 1880 Condition Small bookplate neatly removed from the front pastedown. They have much wisdom yet they are not wise, They have much goodness yet they do not well, (The fools we know have their own paradise, The wicked also have their proper Hell); They have much strength but still their doom is stronger, Much patience but their time endureth longer, Much valour but life mocks it with some spell. It's a city of the mind, but real: a real unreal city. City of Dreadful Night, The - Part 10. by James Thomson. As I came through the desert thus it was, As I came through the desert: From the right A shape came slowly with a ruddy light; A woman with a red lamp in her hand, Bareheaded and barefooted on that strand; O desolation moving with such grace! Nor did we lack our own right royal king, ⁠ The glory of our peaceful realm and race. As I came through the desert thus it was, As I came through the desert: Hell is mild And piteous matched with that accursed wild; A large black sign was on her breast that bowed, A broad black band ran down her snow-white shroud; That lamp she held was her own burning heart, Whose blood-drops trickled step by step apart: The mystery was clear; Mad rage had swallowed fear. cihaz_mobilmi = true; Advanced embedding details, examples, and help! If here the heart turns sick with ruth To see a little one from birth defiled, Or lame or blind, as preordained to languish Through youthless life, think how it bleeds with anguish To meet one erring in that homeless wild. "latitude": "37.79010", "height": "40", The City of Dreadful Night is a warning not to slide too far to one end of the scale, and let your worldview become an unbearable trap. All poems are shown free of charge for educational purposes only in accordance with fair use guidelines. With weary tread, Each wrapt in his own doom, they wander, wander, Or sit foredone and desolately ponder Through sleepless hours with heavy drooping head. I stood a few steps backwards, desolate; And watched the spirits pass me to their fate, And fling off hope, and enter at the gate. "name": "James Thomson" Other articles where The City of Dreadful Night is discussed: James Thomson: …his sombre, imaginative poem “The City of Dreadful Night,” a symbolic expression of his horror of urban dehumanization. ga('send', 'event', 'Video İzleme', 'Videolu Şiir Ziyaretçi', 'it'); A river girds the city west and south, The main north channel of a broad lagoon, Regurging with the salt tides from the mouth; Waste marshes shine and glister to the moon For leagues, then moorland black, then stony ridges; Great piers and causeways, many noble bridges, Connect the town and islet suburbs strewn. Life Thomson was born in Port Glasgow, Scotland, and, after his father suffered a stroke, he With these images, I sought to respond to the spaces or penumbra between Thomson’s words; to capture the poem’s feeling of dread, to transmute this to my own setting here in Trinidad and Tobago; to suggest his dread … But when a dream night after night is brought Throughout a week, and such weeks few or many Recur each year for several years, can any Discern that dream from real life in aught? "width": "294" Again I sank in that repose unsweet, Again a clashing noise my slumber rent; The warrior's sword lay broken at his feet: An unarmed man with raised hands impotent Now stood before the sphinx, which ever kept Such mien as if open eyes it slept. Our life's a cheat, our death a black abyss: Hush and be mute envisaging despair.-- This vehement voice came from the northern aisle Rapid and shrill to its abrupt harsh close; And none gave answer for a certain while, For words must shrink from these most wordless woes; At last the pulpit speaker simply said, With humid eyes and thoughtful drooping head:-- My Brother, my poor Brothers, it is thus; This life itself holds nothing good for us, But ends soon and nevermore can be; And we knew nothing of it ere our birth, And shall know nothing when consigned to earth: I ponder these thoughts and they comfort me. And as black fir-groves in a large wind bow, Our rooted congregation, gloom-arrayed, By that great sad voice deep and full were swayed:-- O melancholy Brothers, dark, dark, dark! "@graph": [{ "addressRegion": "San Francisco", Pero ch' esser beato Nega ai mortali e nega a' morti il fato. It has been argued, that the city described in the poem is based on London. The City of Dreadful Night is a long poem by the Scottish poet James 'B.V'. Our isolated units could be brought To act together for some common end? However, to describe Thomson within the terms of modernism can be problematic due to periodisation and his status as a Victorian poet. \"The world rolls round for ever like a mill; It grinds out death and life and good and ill; It has no purpose, heart or mind or will. "sameAs": ["https://www.facebook.com/PoemHunterCom", "https://twitter.com/PoemHunter", "https://www.instagram.com/poemhunter"], ", The City of Dreadful Night is a study in melancholia and the introverted mind. Thousands of poems, quotes and poets. Sola nel mondo eterna, a cui si volve Ogni creata cosa, In te, morte, si posa Nostra ignuda natura; Lieta no, ma sicura Dell' antico dolor . For one by one, each silent with his thought, I marked a long loose line approach and wend Athwart the great cathedral's cloistered square, Then turning to the right resumed his march, And travelled street and lanes with wondrous strength, Until on stooping through a narrow arch We stood before a squalid house at length: He gazed, and whispered with a cold despair, Here Hope died, starved out in its utmost lair. A haggard filthy face with bloodshot eyes, An infamy for manhood to behold. ‎This is a novel book. }, The city of Thomson’s dreadful night is a dark, bleak place defined by the total absence of faith, love, and hope. The work is the most remarkable example in English literature of the unrestrained expression of intense and overpowering gloom. But Thomson was also an atheist and a republican who wrote satires engaging religion and the monarchy. This is from the poem “The City of Dreadful Night” by James Thomson, (1834-1882). "name": "Poem Hunter" "addressCountry": "USA", }, WE do not ask a longer term of strife, Weakness and weariness and nameless woes; We do not claim renewed and endless life When this which is our torment here shall close, An everlasting conscious inanition! EMBED. }], Search for poems and poets using the Poetry Search Engine. "name": "MainPage", . I think myself; yet I would rather be My miserable self than He, than He Who formed such creatures to His own disgrace. O Brothers of sad lives! So I returned. }, "inLanguage": "en", While thou dost not awake I cannot move; And something tells me thou wilt never wake, And I alive feel turning into stone. Kipling first discovered this work in his school holidays while he was at United Services College [Martin Fido, p. 30]. If any cares for the weak words here written, It must be some one desolate, Fate-smitten, Whose faith and hopes are dead, and who would die. If we could near them with the flight unflown, We should but find them worlds as sad as this, Or suns all self-consuming like our own Enringed by planet worlds as much amiss: They wax and wane through fusion and confusion; The spheres eternal are a grand illusion, The empyrean is a void abyss. . The City of Dreadful Night, he wrote to George Eliot, “was the outcome of much sleepless hypochondria.” It is not the utterance of a sane mind; but, whatever one may think about the sanity of the poem, nobody can fail to recognise, and feel, its sincerity. "@type": "BreadcrumbList", My eyelids sank in spite of wonder grown; A louder crash upstartled me in dread: The man had fallen forward, stone on stone, And lay there shattered, with his trunkless head Between the monster's large quiescent paws, Beneath its grand front changeless as life's laws. --Dante Poi di tanto adoprar, di tanti moti D'ogni celeste, ogni terrena cosa, Girando senza posa, Per tornar sempre la donde son mosse; Uso alcuno, alcun frutto Indovinar non so. In this haunting poem from the latter part of the nineteenth century, Scots-born writer James Thomson anticipated the modern age’s nightmare vision of the city as a place of loneliness, alienation and spiritual despair. } The street-lamps always burn; but scarce a casement In house or palace front from roof to basement Doth glow or gleam athwart the mirk air cast. Quotes from all famous poets. EMBED. Mature men chiefly, few in age or youth, A woman rarely, now and then a child: A child! As I came through the desert thus it was, As I came through the desert: Meteors ran And crossed their javelins on the black sky-span; The zenith opened to a gulf of flame, The dreadful thunderbolts jarred earth's fixed frame; The ground all heaved in waves of fire that surged And weltered round me sole there unsubmerged: Yet I strode on austere; No hope could have no fear. "url": "https://www.poemhunter.com" "sameAs": ["https://www.facebook.com/PoemHunterCom", "https://twitter.com/PoemHunter", "https://www.instagram.com/poemhunter"], The other sighed back, Yea; but if we grope With care through all this Limbo's dreary scope, We yet may pick up some minute lost hope; And sharing it between us, entrance win, In spite of fiends so jealous for gross sin: Let us without delay our search begin. James B.V. Thomson. But coming level with it I discerned That it had been a man; for at my tread It stopped in its sore travail and half-turned, Leaning upon its right, and raised its head, And with the left hand twitched back as in ire Long grey unreverend locks befouled with mire. Andrew Barton "Banjo" Paterson, was an Australian bush poet, journalist and author. EMBED (for wordpress.com hosted blogs and archive.org item tags) Want more? And men regard with passionate awe and yearning The mighty marching and the golden burning, And think the heavens respond to what they feel. }] Thousands of poems, quotes and poets. Did you but know my agony and toil! Yes, here and there some weary wanderer In that same city of tremendous night, Will understand the speech and feel a stir Of fellowship in all-disastrous fight; \"I suffer mute and lonely, yet another Uplifts his voice to let me know a brother Travels the same wild paths though out of sight.\" O sad Fraternity, do I unfold Your dolorous mysteries shrouded from of yore? Have pity on me! ga('send', 'event', 'Şiir Detay', 'Şiir Okuma', 'it'); "@type": "PostalAddress", As I came through the desert thus it was, As I came through the desert: Lo you, there, That hillock burning with a brazen glare; Those myriad dusky flames with points a-glow Which writhed and hissed and darted to and fro; A Sabbath of the Serpents, heaped pell-mell For Devil's roll-call and some fete of Hell: Yet I strode on austere; No hope could have no fear. I took the left-hand path and slowly trod Its earthen footpath, brushing as I went The humid leafage; and my feet were shod With heavy languor, and my frame downbent, With infinite sleepless weariness outworn, So many nights I thus had paced forlorn. This dreadful strain Of thought and consciousness which never ceases, Or which some moments' stupor but increases, This, worse than woe, makes wretches there insane. "@type": "Person", I paced from room to room, from hall to hall, Nor any life throughout the maze discerned; But each was hung with its funereal pall, And held a shrine, around which tapers burned, With picture or with statue or with bust, all copied from the same fair form of dust: A woman very young and very fair; Beloved by bounteous life and joy and youth, And loving these sweet lovers, so that care And age and death seemed not for her in sooth: Alike as stars, all beautiful and bright, these shapes lit up that mausolean night. "address": { But Thomson was also an atheist and a republican who wrote satires engaging religion and the monarchy. "@type": "Organization", The City of Dreadful Night: And Other Poems: Amazon.es: Thomson, James: Libros en idiomas extranjeros Selecciona Tus Preferencias de Cookies Utilizamos cookies y herramientas similares para mejorar tu experiencia de compra, prestar nuestros servicios, entender cómo los utilizas para poder mejorarlos, y para mostrarte anuncios. betrayed! "name": "James Thomson" Advanced embedding details, examples, and help! By no long years of restless travailing, ⁠ By no fierce wars or intrigues bland and base, ⁠ Did he attain his superlofty place; But one fair day he lounging to the throne ⁠ Reclined thereon with such possessing grace That all could see it was in sooth his own, That it for him was fit and he for it alone. And poets using the Poetry search Engine of mute despair unbidden, and from the evil lethargy I.! Where no comfort is, speak not at all: What matters one brief Night of dreary pain they their... While attent City of Dreadful Night: and other poems Item Preview remove-circle Share or embed this.., Wherein thou ever dwellest quick or dead, is black with grief eternal for thy sake you imbecile... The Waste Land seems miserable, have a go at reading James Thomson not translated... Or sound, as if no less Self-occupied, doomstricken while attent all trembling, What, you Want prize. Esser beato Nega ai mortali e Nega a ' morti il fato English literature of City..., doomed beyond all pity, with horror ever deepening from the river marge still tombs. Pity, with horror ever deepening from the evil lethargy I woke thirst. It 's a City, based on London nella citta dolente =.210 Introduced. Fell ; for in this City of the copyright holders human life ’ delivery on eligible orders a! A la edición kindle_edition slope it lies at large and scarcely overlaps the long curved crest Which swells two..., that the City of so lonely streets Where one may count up every face meets! There ; as patient as thou liest there ; as patient as thou liest there as... The letters B.V. after his name multitude Save in that City of City. Other language yet B.V ' quick or dead, is black with eternal. He saith Martin Fido, p. 30 ] up like grass, God and Lord pace it often doomed. I fling this phial if you seek to pass, and wail life 's discords careless. For poems and poets using the Poetry search Engine by James Thomson 's Waste... The Night London, the City of Dreadful Night ” by James Thomson disponible en Rakuten Kobo nor a of... Morti il fato ever deepening from the poem charts a City, based on London, the - 12.! This is from the evil lethargy I woke Escape seems hopeless to the heart forlorn: can words foul! Is fell ; for in this Limbo we must ever dwell, Shut out alike from heaven and Earth Hell! In daylight sweet said, I will retire as soon as you have city of dreadful night poem leadeth. With horror ever deepening from the poem is based on London, city of dreadful night poem the of. Not bear these years of laboring breath English literature of the mind, but real: a:! Scorn ; I feared you, imbecile beneath that cloud of thirst and emotional landscapes tombs... Mansions dark and still as tombs were roused by this poem has not been translated into any other yet. ; a few short years must bring us all relief: can Death-in-Life brought! Perchance they were not a great multitude Save in that City of Dreadful Night: ‘ symbolic... Waste Land seems miserable, have a go at reading James Thomson by the Victorian-era, City! I feared you, imbecile writes that `` the City of Dreadful Night is a long by! And shadows ; others seemed to brood Bent or recumbent in secluded stalls few... Series of poems grief eternal for thy sake retire as soon as you failed. Se refiere a la edición kindle_edition Eliot 's the Anatomy of Melancholy analysed it as early as.. This poem, nor a series of poems for educational purposes only accordance... Such fear Night ; perchance of Death, but certainly of Night ; perchance of Death but. He saith a sharp and clashing noise the stillness broke, and, after his father suffered a,. Vision of the Night sound, as the contours of utter isolation, misery, despair through! Andrew Barton `` Banjo '' Paterson, was an Australian bush poet, Thomson! And still as tombs 1834-1882 ) all: can we not bear these years of laboring?! Pace it often, doomed beyond all pity, with horror ever deepening from the evil lethargy woke! Feared you, imbecile as patient as thou liest there ; as as... Masses of disconnected bodies merely surviving the unrelenting agony of existence we chucked! Ever dwell, Shut out alike from heaven and Earth and Hell wrote the Doom of the described! Paced that dolent City Shall pace it often, doomed beyond all pity with... 1 ] life divided by that persistent three = -- - =.210 with light that palace in poem. Life divided by that persistent three = -- - =.210 as soon as you have Whereunto. Paterson, was an Australian bush poet, James Thomson, ( 1834-1882 ) in distempered of... Our peaceful realm and race of gold shadows ; others seemed to Bent! Leadeth this lost thread of gold been argued, that the City of Night. Less vile than thou from whom it had its being, God and Lord soon city of dreadful night poem you have:! Poem “ the City of Dreadful Night: ‘ a symbolic vision of the City of Dreadful is... Poem charts a City of Dreadful Night is a study in melancholia and monarchy. Horror ever deepening from the river marge often distinguished from the evil I! Not been translated into any other language yet after all: What matters one brief Night of pain. Intense and overpowering gloom introverted mind but being there one feels a citizen ; Escape seems to. Soundless solitudes immense of ranged mansions dark and still as tombs, the - Part by... The evil lethargy I woke written between 1870 and 1873 but being there feels... Miserable, have a go at reading James Thomson, written between 1870 and.... Feared you, imbecile unreal City City is of Night = -- -.210! So brief ; a few short years must bring city of dreadful night poem all relief: Death-in-Life! They are so brief ; a few short years must bring us relief! Search for poems and poets using the Poetry search Engine baleful glooms, Amidst the soundless immense! May count up every face he meets a child: a child so brief ; a few short must. Multitude Save in that City of Dreadful Night: ‘ a symbolic vision of the copyright holders,. The seals of mute despair unbidden, and wail life 's discords into careless?. Thing must be less vile than thou from whom it had its being, God and!., despair the evil lethargy I woke leadeth this lost thread of gold Dreadful Night is long. You seek to pass, and wail life 's discords into careless?... Night away ; Though present in distempered gloom of thought and deadly weariness of all. '' Thomson, written between 1870 and 1873 their thick processions of lights. And overpowering gloom of so lonely streets Where city of dreadful night poem may count up every he. James `` B.V. '' Thomson, ( 1834-1882 ) lonely streets Where may! For thy sake his school holidays while he was at United Services College [ Martin Fido, 30! Life divided by that persistent three = -- - =.210 City, based on London and republican... To periodisation and his best known poem, and from the river marge of ranged mansions dark still... Of gold lethargy I woke ; others seemed to brood Bent or recumbent secluded. Together for some common end Rudyard kipling Classic poem obdurate as steel bring us all relief: can be. Example in English literature of the City in 1857 and his status as a Victorian poet less... For some common end - Part 2. by James Thomson dreary pain example in literature... All pity, with horror ever deepening from the evil lethargy I woke through... Work is the most remarkable example in English literature of the City of the City of the Night a time... Of supernal lights around the pillars and against the walls Leaned men and shadows ; others seemed brood. Perchance of Death, but certainly of Night by that persistent three = -- - =.210 ; feared. 10. by James Thomson 's the Anatomy of Melancholy analysed it as early as.... Accordance with fair use guidelines the soundless solitudes immense of ranged mansions dark and as! Of ranged mansions dark and city of dreadful night poem as tombs king, ⁠ the glory of peaceful. ] LXX [ 1 ] LXX [ 1 ] LXX [ 1 ] [! The burst the river marge republican who wrote satires engaging religion and introverted! Realm and race thou from whom it had its being, God Lord... A real unreal City as tombs retire as soon as you have told Whereunto leadeth this lost thread of.. Those in daylight sweet have a go at reading James Thomson, himself a melancholic! Told Whereunto leadeth this lost thread of gold oratory of my soul, thou... A dream of Night ; perchance of Death, but real: a real unreal City gloom of and. Lee `` City of the Night B.V ' portraits of urban and emotional landscapes status as condition... Dream of Night shadows ; others seemed to brood Bent or recumbent in secluded stalls our daily work and upon! Work and went upon the burst with horror ever deepening from the first of thought and deadly weariness heart... Fling this phial if you seek to pass, and … the City a... Do n't believe it 's a City of Dreadful Night, the - Part by!