In A London Drawingroom Poem by George Eliot
In A London Drawingroom
The sky is cloudy, yellowed by the smoke.
For view there are the houses opposite
Cutting the sky with one long line of wall
Like solid fog: far as the eye can stretch
Monotony of surface & of form
Without a break to hang a guess upon.
No bird can make a shadow as it flies,
For all is shadow, as in ways o'erhung
By thickest canvass, where the golden rays
Are clothed in hemp. No figure lingering
Pauses to feed the hunger of the eye
Or rest a little on the lap of life.
All hurry on & look upon the ground,
Or glance unmarking at the passers by
The wheels are hurrying too, cabs, carriages
All closed, in multiplied identity.
The world seems one huge prison-house & court
Where men are punished at the slightest cost,
With lowest rate of colour, warmth & joy.
A contrasting picture of cloudy sky and busy town is well depicted by this poem by George Eliot!
This poet describes the incredible constancy of the doldrums of English weather. Making sure you have to supercharge to find a glimpse of optimism, Better drink tea and have a wonderful conversation! Wonderful phrasing and a very expressive style.
Awesome poem, with nice lines The world seems one huge prison-house & court Where men are punished at the slightest cost, With lowest rate of colour, warmth & joy.
Imagery and description is employed amazingly in this poem drawing figures and pictures in reader's mind. Nice poem.
Nice composition, well managed with singly single details.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 7:30:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This could be any drawing room today, in any big city