Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||
15
XV. FIRST FROST.
It was the time when Jupiter aloneBurned in the south with undivided sway,
And dark against the primrose-dying day
Stood forth the cairn of ancient Coniston;
No longer in the tarn reflected shone
The snowy fields on mountains far away;
Dull were the larches, late so golden gay;
The light from out the feathered reeds was gone:
Then up the dusky lane, with welcome sound
To milkmaid's ear, the lowing cattle past,
And mellowly they crushed the crisping ground,
Their breath in silver o'er their shoulders cast;
The Herdsmen, as he stumbled after, cried,
“A bitter frost, God wot, this eventide!”
Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||