Cold Comfort

by Arthur Hugh Clough — a poem card from Justes Mots

A bleak meditation on aging and the diminishment of hope, questioning whether rational philosophy offers comfort to the elderly or whether nostalgia and illusion provide better solace. Clough contemplates whether wisdom brings peace or merely cold facts devoid of comfort. The poem addresses existential anxiety about mortality and the inadequacy of reason in old age.

Say, will it, when our hairs are grey,
And wintry suns half light the day,
Which cheering hope and strengthening trust
Have left, departed, turned to dust,
Say, will it soothe lone years to extract
From fitful shows with sense exact
Their sad residuum, small, of fact?
Will trembling nerves their solace find…

Themes: sympathy · grief · reflection