Clouded with snow
The cold winds blow,
And shrill on leafless bough
The robin with its burning breast
Alone sings now.
The rayless sun,
Day’s journey done,
Sheds its last ebbing light
On fields in leagues of beauty spread
Unearthly white.
Thick draws the dark,
And spark by spark,
The frost-fires kindle, and soon
Over that sea of frozen foam
Floats the white moon.
2 replies on ““Winter” by Walter de la Mare”
Very touching 🙂 Great imagery. I found the end of the first stanza very saddening to be honest 🙁
I kind of agree with mr Wood, however I think that the second stanza is the saddest- It seems to be talking about the end of ones journey in life 🙁