 | East and west : the discovery of America and other poems |  |
71
THE SNOWDROP.
Poor snowdrop, early for a snowdrop born;The February sun is high, and winds
Steal from the feigning South with breath of spring.—
But frost-gods only hide. Sweet flower, they wait
To nip thee. See, snow crusts the fallow fields;
And yonder schoolboy cracks the thinning ice.
Behold what gloom of cloud hath chid the West.
Alas, I think I hear the cold wind sigh
In dread March days among the naked trees.
The woodman still doth fell the kitchen log;
And in his winter nest the squirrel hides.
I see no glad spring bird, save chick-a-dee,
Who bravely hops along the leafless bough.
Snowdrop, this night the North King's icy breath
Will blast thy budding hopes. Then, pretty flower,
I'll pluck thee from thy root; and thou shalt lie
Beside the one I love, and wake warm smiles
From her pale face at thought of me and thee.
The sight of thy young life may quicken her
To health and hope. Sweet silent messenger
Of love, I envy while I pity thee!
There:—tremblest in my hand, my hard rude hand?
Thou soon shalt lie upon her gentle breast;
And thou shalt die where I have prayed to die.
| East and west : the discovery of America and other poems | |