Chapter XX

Die down, O dismal day! and let me live.
And come, blue deeps! magnificently strewn
With coloured clouds--large, light and fugitive--
By upper winds through pompous motions blown.
Now it is death in life--a vapour dense
Creeps round my window till I cannot see
The far snow-shining mountains, and the glens
Shagging the mountain-tops. O God! make free
This barren, shackled earth, so deadly cold--
Breathe gently forth Thy spring, till winter flies
In rude amazement, fearful and yet bold,
While she performs her custom’d charities.
I weigh the loaded hours till life is bare--
O God! for one clear day, a snowdrop, and sweet air!