Читать книгу Selected Poems of Bernard Barton, the 'Quaker Poet' - Christopher Stokes W. - Страница 34

WINTER

Thou hast thy beauties: sterner ones, I own,

Than those of thy precursors; yet to thee

Belong the charms of solemn majesty

And naked grandeur. Awful is the tone

Of thy tempestuous nights, when clouds are blown 5

By hurrying winds across the troubled sky;

Pensive, when softer breezes faintly sigh

Through leafless boughs, with ivy overgrown.

Thou hast thy decorations too; although

Thou art austere: thy studded mantle, gay 10

With icy brilliants, which as proudly glow

As erst Golconda’s; and thy pure array

Of regal ermine, when the drifted snow

Envelopes nature; till her features seem

Like pale, but lovely ones, seen when we dream. 15