He disappeared in the dead of winter: The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted, And snow disfigured the public statues; The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying, dying, dying day. O all the instruments agree The day of his death was a dark cold day. But in the importance and noise of tomorrow When the brokers are roaring like beasts on the floor of the Bourse, And the poor have the sufferings to which they are fairly accustomed, And each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom, A few thousand will think of this day As one thinks of a day when one did something slightly unusual. O all the instruments agree The day of his death was a dark cold day.
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Authorship:
- by W. H. (Wystan Hugh) Auden (1907 - 1973) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Elizabeth Maconchy (1907 - 1994), "In Memory of W.B. Yeats II", 1985, published 1985 [ voice and piano ], from 3 Songs for Tracey Chadwell, no. 2 [sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2022-04-24
Line count: 14
Word count: 129