 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
8
Winter is Gone.
1819.
Grim in his sullen cloud
Winter hath flown;
Smiling in triumph proud
Spring hastens on;
Hark! in her laughing train
Comes the cuckoo again,
Sounding the victor strain—
“Winter is gone!”
Winter hath flown;
Smiling in triumph proud
Spring hastens on;
Hark! in her laughing train
Comes the cuckoo again,
Sounding the victor strain—
“Winter is gone!”
Sprinkled along the lea,
Young flowers are blown;
Green leaves bedeck the tree,
Newly put on;
Primrose and daisy rath
Bloom by each shady path,
Birds sing in every strath—
“Winter is gone!”
Young flowers are blown;
Green leaves bedeck the tree,
Newly put on;
Primrose and daisy rath
Bloom by each shady path,
Birds sing in every strath—
“Winter is gone!”
But by the greenwood bough
Wandering alone,
Mary, I miss thee now—
Miss thee, and moan!
O! what are now to me
Bird, flower, and blooming tree?
Ne'er can they tell, like thee,
“Winter is gone!”
Wandering alone,
Mary, I miss thee now—
Miss thee, and moan!
O! what are now to me
Bird, flower, and blooming tree?
Ne'er can they tell, like thee,
“Winter is gone!”
| The Poetical Works of Robert Story | |