<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508073" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ode Written On The First Of December</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tho' now no more the musing ear<br>Delights to listen to the breeze<br>That lingers o'er the green wood shade,<br> I love thee Winter! well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sweet are the harmonies of Spring,<br>Sweet is the summer's evening gale,<br>Pleasant the autumnal winds that shake<br> The many-colour'd grove.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And pleasant to the sober'd soul<br>The silence of the wintry scene,<br>When Nature shrouds her in her trance</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not undelightful now to roam<br>The wild heath sparkling on the sight;<br>Not undelightful now to pace<br> The forest's ample rounds;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And see the spangled branches shine,<br>And mark the moss of many a hue<br>That varies the old tree's brown bark,<br> Or o'er the grey stone spreads.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cluster'd berries claim the eye<br>O'er the bright hollies gay green leaves,<br>The ivy round the leafless oak<br> Clasps its full foliage close.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So VIRTUE diffident of strength<br>Clings to RELIGION'S firmer aid,<br>And by RELIGION'S aid upheld<br> Endures calamity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor void of beauties now the spring,<br>Whose waters hid from summer sun<br>Have sooth'd the thirsty pilgrim's ear<br> With more than melody.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The green moss shines with icey glare,<br>The long grass bends its spear-like form,<br>And lovely is the silvery scene<br> When faint the sunbeams smile.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Reflection too may love the hour<br>When Nature, hid in Winter's grave,<br>No more expands the bursting bud<br> Or bids the flowret bloom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For Nature soon in Spring's best charms<br>Shall rise reviv'd from Winter's grave.<br>Again expand the bursting bud,<br> And bid the flowret bloom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Southey">Robert Southey</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508073" data-title="Ode Written On The First Of December de Robert Southey" data-description="Tho' now no more the musing ear Delights to listen to the breeze That lingers o'er the green wood shade, I love thee Winter! well. Sweet are the harmonies of Spring, Sweet is the summer's evening gale, Pleasant the autumnal winds that shake The..."></div> </div> </div>

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