Thomas Hardy

Postponement

SNOW-BOUND in woodland, a mournful word,
    Dropt now and then from the bill of a bird,
    Reached me on wind-wafts; and thus I heard,
       Wearily waiting:—
 
    “I planned her a nest in a leafless tree,
    But the passers eyed and twitted me,
    And said: ‘How reckless a bird is he,
       Cheerily mating!’
 
    ”Fear-filled, I stayed me till summer-tide,
    In lewth of leaves to throne her bride;
    But alas! her love for me waned and died,
       Wearily waiting.
 
    “Ah, had I been like some I see,
    Born to an evergreen nesting-tree,
    None had eyed and twitted me,
       Cheerily mating!”
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