The Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti Edited with Preface and Notes by William M. Rossetti: Revised and Enlarged Edition |
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WINTER |
 | The Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti |  |
539
WINTER
In this dead winter season now,
Whose rigid sky is like a corpse,
Awhile beneath some naked bough
Here let me stand, beholding how
The frost all earthly life absorbs.
Whose rigid sky is like a corpse,
Awhile beneath some naked bough
Here let me stand, beholding how
The frost all earthly life absorbs.
Yet fair the sky with clouds o'erspread,
As in grey mantle garmented;
While hastily or placidly
The snow's white flakes descend to clothe
The pleasant world and all its growth.
And passing fair it is to see
How hills and multitudinous woods,
And trees alone in solitudes,
Accept the white shroud silently;
And I have watch'd and deem'd it fair,
While myrtle, laurel, juniper,
Slowly were hidden; while each spring,
Each river, crept, an unknown thing,
Beneath its crystal covering.
As in grey mantle garmented;
While hastily or placidly
The snow's white flakes descend to clothe
The pleasant world and all its growth.
And passing fair it is to see
How hills and multitudinous woods,
And trees alone in solitudes,
Accept the white shroud silently;
And I have watch'd and deem'd it fair,
While myrtle, laurel, juniper,
Slowly were hidden; while each spring,
Each river, crept, an unknown thing,
Beneath its crystal covering.
540
Then shalt thou see, beside the wan
Changed surface of his watery home,
Stand lean and cold the famish'd swan,—
One foot within his ruffled plumes
Upgather'd, while his eyes will roam
Around, till from the wintry glooms
Beneath the wing they hopelessly
Take shelter, that they may not see.
And though sad thoughts within her rise
At the drear sight, yet it shall soothe
Thy soul to look in any guise
Upon the teaching face of truth.
Changed surface of his watery home,
Stand lean and cold the famish'd swan,—
One foot within his ruffled plumes
Upgather'd, while his eyes will roam
Around, till from the wintry glooms
Beneath the wing they hopelessly
Take shelter, that they may not see.
And though sad thoughts within her rise
At the drear sight, yet it shall soothe
Thy soul to look in any guise
Upon the teaching face of truth.
Or shall no beauty fill the mind,
No lesson—when the flocks stand fast,
Their backs all set against the blast,
Labouring immovable, combined,
Till they with their weak feet have burst
The frost-bound treasure of the stream,
And now at length may quench their thirst?
And O! how beautiful doth seem
That evening journey when the herd
Troop homeward by accustom'd ways,
All night in paddock there to graze,
And know the joy of rest deferr'd.
Or if the crow, the sullen bird,
Upon some leafless branch in view,
Thrusts forth his neck, and flaps the bleak
Dry wind, and grates his ravenous beak,
That sight may feed thy musings too.
No lesson—when the flocks stand fast,
Their backs all set against the blast,
Labouring immovable, combined,
Till they with their weak feet have burst
The frost-bound treasure of the stream,
And now at length may quench their thirst?
And O! how beautiful doth seem
That evening journey when the herd
Troop homeward by accustom'd ways,
All night in paddock there to graze,
And know the joy of rest deferr'd.
Or if the crow, the sullen bird,
Upon some leafless branch in view,
Thrusts forth his neck, and flaps the bleak
Dry wind, and grates his ravenous beak,
That sight may feed thy musings too.
And grand it is, 'mid forest boughs,
In darkness, awfully forlorn,
At night to hear the wind carouse,
Within whose breath the strong trees quake
Or stand with naked limbs all torn;
While such unwonted clamours wake
Around, that over all the plain
Fear walks abroad, and tremble then
The flocks, the herds, the husbandmen.
In darkness, awfully forlorn,
At night to hear the wind carouse,
Within whose breath the strong trees quake
Or stand with naked limbs all torn;
While such unwonted clamours wake
Around, that over all the plain
Fear walks abroad, and tremble then
The flocks, the herds, the husbandmen.
But most sublime of all, most holy,
The unfathomable melancholy
When winds are silent in their cells;
When underneath the moon's calm light,
And in the unalter'd snow which veils
All height and depth—to look thereon,
It seems throughout the solemn night
As if the earth and sky were one.
The unfathomable melancholy
When winds are silent in their cells;
When underneath the moon's calm light,
And in the unalter'd snow which veils
All height and depth—to look thereon,
It seems throughout the solemn night
As if the earth and sky were one.
| The Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti | |