Cecil Day-Lewis

Winter Night (1932)

For Charles Fenby

This evening holds her breath
And makes a crystal pause;
The streams of light are frozen,
Shining above their source.

Now if ever might one
Break through the sensual gate;
Seraph’s wing glimpse far-glinting.
Is it, is it too late?

We look up at the sky.
Yes, it is mirror clear;
Too well we recognise
The physiognomy there.

Friend, let us look to earth,
Be stubborn, act and sleep.
Here at our feet the skull
Keeps a stiff upper lip;

Feeling the weight of winter,
Grimaces underground;
But does not need to know
Why spirit was flesh-bound.