Explore "A Year Song" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sighing above, / Rustling below, / Thorough the woods / The winds go.
Beneath, dead crowds; / Above, life bare; / And the besom tempest / Sweeps the air: / _Heart, leave thy woe: / Let the dead things go._
Through the brown / Gold doth push; / Misty green / Veils the bush.
Here a twitter, / There a croak!
They are coming -- / The spring-folk! / _Heart, be not numb; / Let the live things come._
Through the beech / The winds go, / With gentle speech, / Long and slow.
The grass is fine, / And soft to lie in: / The sun doth shine / The blue sky in: / _Heart, be alive; / Let the new things thrive._
Round again!
Here art thou, / A rimy fruit / On a bare bough!
Winter comes, / Winter and snow; / And a weary sighing / To fall and go! / _Heart, thy hour shall be; / Thy dead will comfort thee._