Abysmal wretched day,
Despair thy name inspire,
Thou cast the sky in cheerless grey
And choke the earth in mire.
Release my heart, the sun
From thine accursed hold,
That I may drink her shining rays
Of tender, radiant gold.
Pass thou fiendish shade
With sorrow in thy wake.
Thou cheat us of the precious day
And bid us light forsake.
O fury in the gale
Which thunders in my ears!
This madness which pervades my soul
Released as storm appears.
Howling winds foreboding
Scattering icy spray
Apocalypse for squirrel and mouse,
This dreary autumn day.
A harbinger of death
This chill November rain,
Foreshadowing winter's killing cold
Upon an icy plain.
One day of rain is blessed,
And two no grave condition,
But many days without the sun
Consign us to perdition.
I plead thee, clouds, do yield
Unto my thirst for light.
And so unchain my guiding star
To banish mournful night.
George Chadderdon © 1992