WINTER.
Though now no more the musing ear
Delights to listen to the breeze
That lingers o'er the greenwood shade,
I love thee, Winter! well.
Sweet are the harmonies of Spring,
Sweet is the Summer's evening gale,
Pleasant the Autumnal winds that shake
The many coloured grove;
And pleasant to the sobered soul
The silence of a wintry scene,
When Nature shrouds her in her trance,
In deep tranquillity.
Not undelightful now to roam
The wild-heath sparkling on the sight;
Not undelightful now to pace
The forest's ample rounds;
And see the spangled branches shine,
And snatch the moss of many a hue
That varies the old tree's brown bark,
Or o'er the grey stone spreads.
The clustered berries claim the eye,
O'er the bright holly's gay green leaves;
The ivy round the leafless oak
Clasps its full foliage close.
ROBERT SOUTHEY.