 | The wind in the trees |  |
96
CRUEL WINTER
The dear song-thrush is dead,
The valley hath instead
Only the silence.
The silence aches all day
In hills and valleys gray,
Islands and highlands.
The valley hath instead
Only the silence.
The silence aches all day
In hills and valleys gray,
Islands and highlands.
Song-thrush, asthore, where went
Your singing-voice unspent,
Into what shadows?
What vales of honey dew
Listen and long with you,
What woods, what meadows?
Your singing-voice unspent,
Into what shadows?
What vales of honey dew
Listen and long with you,
What woods, what meadows?
97
O Spring that came so late,
O Winter desolate,
Lingering, doleful!
The dear song-thrush that's cold
In lands of summer gold
Singeth his soul full.
O Winter desolate,
Lingering, doleful!
The dear song-thrush that's cold
In lands of summer gold
Singeth his soul full.
| The wind in the trees | |