WHO watched the worn-out Winter die? Who, peering through the window-pane At nightfall, under sleet and rain Saw the old graybeard totter by? Who listened to his parting sigh, The sobbing of his feeble breath, His whispered colloquy with Death, And when his all of life was done Stood near to bid a last good-bye? Of all his former friends not one Saw the forsaken Winter die. Who welcomed in the maiden Spring? Who heard her footfall, swift and light As fairy-dancing in the night? Who guessed what happy dawn would bring The flutter of her blue-bird's wing, The blossom of her mayflower-face To brighten every shady place? One morning, down the village street, "Oh, here am I," we heard her sing, -- And none had been awake to greet The coming of the maiden Spring. But look, her violet eyes are wet With bright, unfallen, dewy tears; And in her song my fancy hears A note of sorrow trembling yet. Perhaps, beyond the town, she met Old Winter as he limped away To die forlorn, and let him lay His weary head upon her knee, And kissed his forehead with regret For one so gray and lonely, -- see, Her eyes with tender tears are wet. And so, by night, while we were all at rest, I think the coming sped the parting guest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE SHIRT by THOMAS HOOD THE DARK MAN by NORA (CHESSON) HOPPER BROKEN MUSIC by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LANDSCAPE; TWILIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH CHRISTMAS EPITHALAMIUM by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. ARCHEANASSA by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS |