And softer than if it were covered with silk.
Sometimes he’ll hide in the cave of the rock,
Then whistle as shrill as a cuckoo clock.
Yet seek him—and what shall you find in his place?
Nothing but silence and empty space;
Save, in a corner, a heap of dry leaves,
That he’s left, for a bed, to beggars or thieves!
—Dorothy Wordsworth
Friday
Pupils write a list of the nouns in the poem, “Winter Evening.”