I.
The wintry months are here again—
Around us are their snows and storms;
The tempest shrieks along the plain,
The forest heaves its giant forms.
II.
The drifting sleet flies from the hill,
Thick clouds deform the threat'ning sky;
While in the vale, the birds are still,
And chain'd by frosts, the waters lie.
III.
Ah! where is now the merry May,
The green banks, and the leafy bowers?
The cricket's chirp, the linnet's lay,
That gave such sweetness to the hours?
IV.
And where the sunny sky, that round
This world of glad and breathing things,
Came with its sweetness and its sound,
Its golden light and glancing wings?
V.
Alas! the eye falls now no more
On flowery field, or hill, or plain;
Nor for the ear the woodlands pour
One glad note of the summer's strain!