Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SEASONS AND TIMES, by WILLIAM BARNES



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SEASONS AND TIMES, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Awhile in the dead of the winter
Last Line: When footsteps are few on the ground?
Subject(s): Seasons; Time


A while in the dead of the winter,
The wind hurries keen through the sunshine,
But finds no more leaves that may linger
On tree-boughs to strew on the ground.

Long streaks of bright snow-drift, bank-shaded,
Yet lie on the slopes, under hedges;
But still all the road out to Thorndon
Would not wet a shoe on the ground.

The days, though the cold seems to strengthen,
Outlengthen their span, and the evening
Seeks later and later its westing,
To cast its dim hue on the ground,

'Till tree-heads shall thicken their shadow
With leaves of a glittering greenness,
And daisies shall fold up their blossoms
At evening, in dew on the ground;

And then, in the plum-warding garden,
Or shadowy orchard, the house-man
Shall smile at his fruit, really blushing,
Where sunheat shoots through on the ground.

What season do you feel the fairest—
The season of sowing or growing,
Or season of mowing and ripeness,
When hay may lie new on the ground?

And like you the glittering morning,
Or short-shaded noon, or the coming
Of slant-lighted evening, or moonlight,
When footsteps are few on the ground?




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