2 min read
Слушать(AI)Winter-Solitude
I saw the city's towers on a luminous pale-gray sky; Beyond them a hill of the softest mistiest green, With naught but frost and the coming of night between, And a long thin cloud above the colour of August rye. I sat in the midst of a plain on my snowshoes with bended knee Where the thin wind stung my cheeks, And the hard snow ran in little ripples and peaks, Like the fretted floor of a white and petrified sea. And a strange peace gathered about my soul and shone, As I sat reflecting there, In a world so mystically fair, So deathly silent—I so utterly alone.
Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date.
Form: abba
Archibald Lampman
Archibald Lampman (17 November 1861 – 10 February 1899) was a Canadian poet. "He has been described as 'the Canadian Keats;' and he is perhaps t
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Winter
The long days came and went; the riotous Tore the warm grapes in many a dusty vine, And men grew faint and thin with too much ease, And Winter gave no sign:
Storm
Out of the gray northwest, where many a day gone by Ye tugged and howled in your tempestuous grot, And evermore the huge frost giants lie, Your wizard guards in vigilance unforgot, Out of the gray northwest, for now the bonds are riven, On wide wh...
Between The Rapids
The point is turned; the twilight shadow The wheeling stream, the soft receding shore, And on our ears from deep among the Breaks now the rapid's sudden quickening roar
Comfort of the Fields
What would'st thou have for easement after grief, When the rude world hath used thee with despite, And care sits at thine elbow day and night, Filching thy pleasures like a subtle thief To me, when life besets me in such wise, 'Tis sweetest t...