Coventry Patmore (Ковентри Патмор (Пэтмор))
The Year
The crocus, while the days are dark, Unfolds its saffron sheen; At April's touch the crudest bark Discovers gems of green. Then sleep the seasons, full of might; While slowly swells the pod And rounds the peach, and in the night The mushroom bursts the sod. The winter falls; the frozen rut Is bound with silver bars; The snowdrift heaps against the hut, And night is pierced with stars.
Coventry Patmore’s other poems:
Poems of other poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):
