I leant upon a coppice gate | |
When Frost was spectre-gray, | |
And Winter's dregs made desolate | |
The weakening eye of day. | |
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky | 5 |
Like strings of broken lyres, | |
And all mankind that haunted nigh | |
Had sought their household fires. | |
| |
The land's sharp features seemed to be | |
The Century's corpse outleant, | 10 |
His crypt the cloudy canopy, | |
The wind his death-lament. | |
The ancient pulse of germ and birth | |
Was shrunken hard and dry, | |
And every spirit upon earth | 15 |
Seemed fervourless as I. | |
| |
At once a voice arose among | |
The bleak twigs overhead | |
In a full-hearted evensong | |
Of joy illimited; | 20 |
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, | |
In blast-beruffled plume, | |
Had chosen thus to fling his soul | |
Upon the growing gloom. | |
| |
So little cause for carolings | 25 |
Of such ecstatic sound | |
Was written on terrestrial things | |
Afar or nigh around, | |
That I could think there trembled through | |
His happy good-night air | 30 |
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew | |
And I was unaware. | |