A dense fog rolls in from the sea, a “cold white ghost” that slowly hides the hills, the road, and even a nearby pepper-tree. The speaker watches from a window as the landscape disappears, and with it the world seems to lose its edges. The fog does not stop outdoors; it drifts into her. Her longing and her thoughts grow drowsy, and she feels an almost numb stillness. By the final lines, that stillness deepens into exhaustion and despair. With her head in her hands, she says there is nothing left to do, say, or hope for. She feels as heavy as the dead. The result is a quiet, oppressive mood, as if fog and depression have become the same thing: a blank, cold weariness that erases both the outer world and the inner self.
Gray Fog — Summary
A fog drifts in, the heavy laden Cold white ghost of the sea-- One by one the hills go out, The road and the pepper-tree.
I watch the fog float in at the window With the whole world gone blind, Everything, even my longing, drowses, Even the thoughts in my mind.
I put my head on my hands before me, There is nothing left to be done or said, There is nothing to hope for, I am tired, And heavy as the dead.