WinterA widow bird sate mourning for her love
Upon a wintry bough;
The frozen wind crept on above,
The freezing stream below.
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There was no leaf upon the forest bare,
No flower upon the ground,
And little motion in the air
Except the mill wheel`s sound.
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by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Winter Evening
Over the wintry fields the snow drifts, falling, falling,
Its frozen burden filling each hollow.And hark,
Out of the naked woods a wild bird calling,
On the starless verge of the dark.
By Walter de la Mare
2 comments:
I have known only the most common of the De La Mare poems--thank you for this one.
Winter: the word conjures dark nights and cold days--the current season seems to have gone on for too long with unrelenting cold--and its only January! My instincts are to huddle indoors in layers of waddy clothing.
lovely post, and lovely photos, looks very, very cold like it was here on Weds
I've booked marked your blog now for regular return readings!!!
thank you
ren
xx
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