The Winter’s Tale

As I lay on the green grass, And heard the mad winds laugh, I sighed, yet I could not express The pang that pierced my chance. More lovely than a good deed, More dear to me than light, The innocent pasture walks, Where morning freed the night.

I looked upon the deep, The sullen sky around, Awoke to all I could not keep, A sense of wildness bound. From every tree and bower, The sobs of Nature’s heart Lifted the drooping flower, And tore the sky apart.

So let the cold winds break, The icy shower descend; For bliss is our mistake And existence our end.

• Charles Lamb

• Charles Lamb