New Year’s Poetry: Thomas Hardy, Sylvia Plath

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Happy New Year’s Eve!

To celebrate this New Year’s Eve, we have chosen an article about New Year’s poetry by Steve King of Today in Literature.

Thomas Hardy, Sylvia Plath – New Year’s Poetry: Thomas Hardy, Sylvia Plath.

      “I have finished another year,” said God,
      “In grey, green, white, and brown;
      I have strewn the leaf upon the sod,
      Sealed up the worm within the clod,
      And let the last sun down.”
      “And what’s the good of it?” I said.
      “What reasons made you call
      From formless void this earth we tread,
      When nine-and-ninety can be read
      Why nought should be at all?
      “Yea, Sire; why shaped you us, ‘who in
      This tabernacle groan’ –
      If ever a joy be found herein,
      Such joy no man had wished to win
      If he had never known!”
      Then he: “My labours — logicless —
      You may explain; not I:
      Sense-sealed I have wrought, without a guess
      That I evolved a Consciousness
      To ask for reasons why.
      “Strange that ephemeral creatures who
      By my own ordering are,
      Should see the shortness of my view,
      Use ethic tests I never knew,
      Or made provision for!”
      He sank to raptness as of yore,
      And opening New Year’s Day
      Wove it by rote as theretofore,
      And went on working evermore
      In his unweeting way.
    -T. Hardy (written in 1906)
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