Oh, fair of face stands Monday
At threshold of the week,
A lily in her breastknots,
A rose upon her cheek.
In kilted gown of russet
Her daily bread to seek,
She passes o'er the threshold,
Smiling, and does not speak.
She bears across her shoulder
A bough of blossomed may:
Still in her ears are ringing
Church-bells of yesterday.
She is as glad to labour
As Sunday was to pray —
But why she goes a-smiling
She will not ever say.
I am busy working to bring Nora Hopper Chesson's "Monday" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Nora Hopper Chesson's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "Monday" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.
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