 | The Poetical Works of David Gray |  |
170
Snow.
Flowers upon the summer lea,
Daisies, kingcups, pale primroses—
These are sung from sea to sea,
As many a darling rhyme discloses.
Tangled wood and hawthorn dale
In many a songful snatch prevail;
But never yet, as well I mind,
In all their verses can I find
A simple tune, with quiet flow,
To match the falling of the snow.
O weary passed each winter day,
And windily howled each winter night;
O miry grew each village way,
And mists enfolded every height;
And ever on the window pane
A froward gust blew down with rain,
And day by day in tawny brown
The Luggie stream came heaving down:—
I could have fallen asleep and dreamed
Until again spring sunshine gleamed.
Daisies, kingcups, pale primroses—
These are sung from sea to sea,
As many a darling rhyme discloses.
Tangled wood and hawthorn dale
In many a songful snatch prevail;
But never yet, as well I mind,
In all their verses can I find
A simple tune, with quiet flow,
To match the falling of the snow.
171
And windily howled each winter night;
O miry grew each village way,
And mists enfolded every height;
And ever on the window pane
A froward gust blew down with rain,
And day by day in tawny brown
The Luggie stream came heaving down:—
I could have fallen asleep and dreamed
Until again spring sunshine gleamed.
And what! said I, is this the mode
That Winter kings it now-a-days?
The Robin keeps its own abode,
And pipes his independent lays.
I've seen the day on Merkland hill,
That snow has fallen with a will,
Even in November! Now, alas;
The whole year round we see the grass:—
Ah, winter now may come and go
Without a single fall of snow.
That Winter kings it now-a-days?
The Robin keeps its own abode,
And pipes his independent lays.
I've seen the day on Merkland hill,
That snow has fallen with a will,
Even in November! Now, alas;
The whole year round we see the grass:—
172
Without a single fall of snow.
It was the latest day but one
Of winter, as I questioned thus;
And sooth! an angry mood was on,
As at a thing most scandalous;—
When lo! some hailstones on the pane
With sudden tinkle rang amain,
Till in an ecstasy of joy
I clapp'd and shouted like a boy—
Oh, rain may come and rain may go,
But what can match the falling snow!
Of winter, as I questioned thus;
And sooth! an angry mood was on,
As at a thing most scandalous;—
When lo! some hailstones on the pane
With sudden tinkle rang amain,
Till in an ecstasy of joy
I clapp'd and shouted like a boy—
Oh, rain may come and rain may go,
But what can match the falling snow!
It draped the naked sycamore
On Foordcroft hill, above the well;
The elms of Rosebank o'er and o'er
Were silvered richly as it fell.
The distant Campsie peaks were lost,
And farthest Criftin with his host
Of gloomy pine-trees disappeared,
Nor even a lonely ridge upreared.—
Oh, rain may come and rain may go,
But what can match the falling snow!
On Foordcroft hill, above the well;
The elms of Rosebank o'er and o'er
Were silvered richly as it fell.
The distant Campsie peaks were lost,
173
Of gloomy pine-trees disappeared,
Nor even a lonely ridge upreared.—
Oh, rain may come and rain may go,
But what can match the falling snow!
Afar upon the Solsgirth moor,
Each heather sprig of withered brown
Is fringed with thread of silver pure
As slow the soft flakes waver down;
And on Glenconner's lonely path,
And Gartshore's still and open strath,
It falleth, quiet as the birth
Of morning o'er the quickening earth.—
Oh, rain may come and rain may go,
But what can match the falling snow!
Each heather sprig of withered brown
Is fringed with thread of silver pure
As slow the soft flakes waver down;
And on Glenconner's lonely path,
And Gartshore's still and open strath,
It falleth, quiet as the birth
Of morning o'er the quickening earth.—
Oh, rain may come and rain may go,
But what can match the falling snow!
And all around our Merkland home
Is laid a sheet of virgin lawn;
On fairer, softer, ne'er did roam
The nimble Oread or Faun.
There is a wonder in the air,
A living beauty everywhere;
As if the whole had ne'er been planned,
But touched by Merlin's famous wand,
Suddenly woke beneath his hand
To potent bliss in fairy show—
A mighty ravishment of snow!
Is laid a sheet of virgin lawn;
174
The nimble Oread or Faun.
There is a wonder in the air,
A living beauty everywhere;
As if the whole had ne'er been planned,
But touched by Merlin's famous wand,
Suddenly woke beneath his hand
To potent bliss in fairy show—
A mighty ravishment of snow!
| The Poetical Works of David Gray | |