the seasons in italy—winter.
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For thee no bird shall sing again,
The vernal year shall bloom no more.
The vernal year shall bloom no more.
VIII.
Thou hast no part in earth's bright things;
Thy tale is told, thy course is run.
Ah! without love life knows no springs;
Ah! without love life feels no sun.
Thy tale is told, thy course is run.
Ah! without love life knows no springs;
Ah! without love life feels no sun.
Winter.
I.
Oh my pale December roses,
Pale and faint, yet sweet and fair;
Would that when life's autumn closes,
I such dying smiles may wear!
Pale and faint, yet sweet and fair;
Would that when life's autumn closes,
I such dying smiles may wear!
II.
Oh how still the wintry sky!
Blue, wide depths, so pure and cold.
O'er the hills dim vapours lie,
Snow in every fleecy fold.
Blue, wide depths, so pure and cold.
O'er the hills dim vapours lie,
Snow in every fleecy fold.
