Eversley, 1848.
THE STARLINGS
Early in spring time, on raw and windy mornings,
Beneath the freezing house-eaves I heard the starlings sing—
‘Ah dreary March month, is this then a time for building wearily?
Sad, sad, to think that the year is but begun.’
Late in the autumn, on still and cloudless evenings,
Among the golden reed-beds I heard the starlings sing—
‘Ah that sweet March month, when we and our mates were courting merrily;
Sad, sad, to think that the year is all but done.’
Eversley, 1848.
OLD AND NEW: A PARABLE
See how the autumn leaves float by decaying,
Down the wild swirls of the rain-swollen stream.
So fleet the works of men, back to their earth again;
Ancient and holy things fade like a dream.
Nay! see the spring-blossoms steal forth a-maying,
Clothing with tender hues orchard and glen;
So, though old forms pass by, ne’er shall their spirit die,
Look! England’s bare boughs show green leaf again.
Eversley, 1848.