The abode of the nightingale is bare, Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air, The fox howls from his frozen lair: Alas, my loved one is gone, I am alone; It is winter. Once the pink cast a winy smell, The wild bee hung in the hyacinth bell, Light in effulgence of beauty fell: Alas, my loved one is gone, I am alone; It is winter. My candle a silent fire doth shed, Starry Orion hunts o'erhead; Come moth, come shadow, the world is dead: Alas, my loved one is gone, I am alone; It is winter. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: SPRING by EDITH SITWELL SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 22 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING A SONNET by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN CHILD OF MARY'S SOUL by SUSIE MONTGOMERY BEST ON THE DEATH OF ANNE BRONTE by CHARLOTTE BRONTE |