WE never had believed, I wis, <br />At primrose time when west winds stole <br />Like thoughts of youth across the soul, <br />In such an altered time as this, <br /> <br />When if one little flower did peep <br />Up through the brown and sullen grass, <br />We should just look on it, and pass <br />As if we saw it in our sleep. <br /> <br />Feeling as sure as that this ray <br />Which cottage children call the sun, <br />Colors the pale clouds one by one,-- <br />Our touch would make it drop to clay. <br /> <br />We never could have looked, in prime <br />Of April, or when July trees <br />Shook full-leaved in the evening bree <br />Upon the face of this pale time, <br /> <br />Still, soft, familiar; shining bleak <br />On naked branches, sodden ground, <br />Yet shining--as if one had found <br />A smile upon a dead friend's cheek, <br /> <br />Or old friend, lost for years, had strange <br />In altered mien come sudden back, <br />Confronting us with our great lack-- <br />Till loss seemed far less sad than change. <br /> <br />Yet though, alas! Hope did not see <br />This winter skeleton through full leaves, <br />Out of all bareness Faith perceives <br />Possible life in field and tree. <br /> <br />In bough and trunk the sap will move, <br />And the mould break o'er springing flowers; <br />Nature revives with all her powers, <br />But only nature;--never love. <br /> <br />So, listlessly with linkèd hands <br />Both Faith and Hope glide soft away; <br />While in long shadows, cool and gray, <br />The sun sets o'er the barren lands.<br /><br />Dinah Maria Mulock Craik<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-winter-walk-3/
