Poems (Southey)/Volume 1/Written on the First of December, 1793
Lyric Poems.
Written on the FIRST of DECEMBER,
1793.
Tho' now no more the musing earDelights to listen to the breeze,That lingers o'er the green wood shade, I love thee, Winter! well.
Sweet are the harmonies of Spring,Sweet is the Summer's evening gale,Pleasant the Autumnal winds that shake The many-colour'd grove.
And pleasant to the sober'd soulThe silence of the wintry scene,When Nature shrouds her in her trance In deep tranquility.
Not undelightful now to roamThe wild heath sparkling on the sight;Not undelightful now to pace The forest's ample rounds;
And see the spangled branches shine,And mark the moss of many a hueThat varies the old tree's brown bark, Or o'er the grey stone spreads.
The cluster'd berries claim the eyeO'er the bright hollies gay green leaves;The ivy round the leafless oak Clasps its full foliage close.
So Virtue diffident of strengthClings to Religion's firmer aid,And by Religion's aid upheld Endures calamity.
Nor void of beauties now the spring,Whose waters hid from summer sunHave sooth'd the thirsty pilgrim's ear With more than melody.
The green moss shines with icy glare;The long grass bends its spear-like form;And lovely is the silvery scene When faint the sunbeams smile.
Reflection too may love the hourWhen Nature, hid in Winter's grave,No more expands the bursting bud, Or bids the flowret bloom.
For Nature soon in Spring's best charmsShall rise reviv'd from Winter's grave,Again expand the bursting bud, And bid the flowret bloom.