No Songs in Winter

The Sisters' Tragedy

by Thomas Bailey Aldrich

The sky is gray as gray may be,
There is no bird upon the
bough,
There is no leaf on vine or tree.

In the Neponset marshes now
Willow-stems, rosy in the
wind,
Shiver with hidden sense of snow.

So too 'tis winter in my mind,
No light-winged fancy comes
and stays:
A season churlish and unkind.

Slow creep the hours, slow creep the days,
The black ink
crusts upon the pen--
Just wait till bluebirds, wrens, and
jays
And golden orioles come again!