Snowy sunrise

It snowed in north Georgia last evening, the first snow of this winter, beginning around 8 pm. It was still going strong when we retired around 11:30 for the night. This morning, I looked out the glass door that separates our kitchen from our patio and this is what I saw:

Seeing the blanket of white on the ground and the evergreen trees on the hill and the way the sun was peeping around the edge of the house behind us, reflecting off our birdbath while the rest of the back yard remained in shadow, made me think -- I don't know why -- of this poem by Thomas Hood:

I Remember, I Remember
by Thomas Hood (1799-1845)

I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!

I remember, I remember,
The roses, red and white,
The vi'lets, and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,—
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember,
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then,
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember,
The fir trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from heav'n
Than when I was a boy.

Source: Poets of the English Language (Viking Press, 1950)

This is certainly not the house where I was born. I didn't have a brother. Maybe it was the line about the little window where the sun came peeping in at morn, which it does at certain times of the year here but not at others in that window of sky between the two houses. Maybe it was the fir trees dark and high (though ours are pines) with their slender tops close against the sky. I don't know. But for whatever reason, my day began in a decidedly literary fashion.

No telling what I will post when I see the first daffodil. It may make you want to wander lonely as a cloud but it will probably make me think of Puyallap, Washington, where between the years 2012 and 2016 not only have the daffodils faded but Mount Rainier seems to have disappeared as well.

Keep 'em guessing, that's what I say.

I don’t remember, I don’t remember, the house where I was born

...because our family moved around a bit. In fact, by the time I was seven years old I had lived in two different houses in Rhode Island, one in New York, and two in Texas. So I cannot identify on that level with either the poem below by Thomas Hood (British poet, 1799 - 1845) or the one after that by Franklin P. Adams (American writer, (1881 - 1960).


I Remember, I Remember
By Thomas Hood (1799 - 1845)

I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!

I remember, I remember
The roses, red and white,
The vi’lets, and the lily-cups--
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,--
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember
The fir trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now ’tis little joy
To know I’m farther off from Heav’n
Than when I was a boy.



I Remember, I Remember
by Franklin P. Adams (1881 - 1960)

I remember, I remember
The house where I was born;
The rent was thirty-two a month,
Which made my father mourn.
He said he could remember when
His father paid the rent;
And when a man’s expenses did
Not take his every cent.

I remember, I remember
My mother telling my cousin
That eggs had gone to twenty-six
Or seven cents a dozen;
And how she told my father that
She didn’t like to speak
Of things like that, but Bridget now
Demanded four a week.

I remember, I remember--
And with a mirthless laugh--
My weekly board at college took
A jump to three and a half.
I bought an eighteen-dollar suit,
And father told me, “Sonny,
I’ll pay the bill this time, but, Oh,
I’m not made out of money!”

I remember, I remember,
When I was young and brave
And I declared, “Well, Birdie, we
Shall now begin to save.”
It was a childish ignorance,
But now ’tis little joy
To know I’m farther off from wealth
Than when I was a boy.


Does Hood really say in the first stanza that he wishes he had died as a child? Does he explain why?

Is Adams’s poem a bit more serious than it may appear to be at first reading? In what ways?

What memories or comments do these poems evoke from you? I would love to hear your reactions.