No Songs In Winter Poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich

No Songs In Winter

Rating: 3.1


The sky is gray as gray may be,
There is no bird upon the bough,
There is no leaf on vine or tree.

In the Neponset marshes now
Willow-stems, rosy in the wind,
Shiver with hidden sense of snow.

So too 't is winter in my mind,
No light-winged fancy comes and stays:
A season churlish and unkind.

Slow creep the hours, slow creep the days,
The black ink crusts upon the pen--
Just wait till bluebirds, wrens, and jays
And golden orioles come again!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Portsmouth, New Hampshire
Close
Error Success