“Blue bird, true bird,
Tell them my heart is fain
To cross the plain and the mountain,
And live in their heart again!
But I am a slave in a far-off land,
And I long, I long in vain!”
(E. Nesbit in Slave song)
“O snow, in thy soft grave
Sad flow’rs the winter brave;
O heart, so sooth and save,
as does the snow.
The snow must melt, must go,
Fast, fast as water flow.
Not thus, my soul, O sow
Thy gifts to fade like snow.”
(C.A. Elgar in The snow)
“Lay this tired head on thy breast!
Flowers from the night-dew are closing.
Pilgrims and mourners reposing.
Mother, oh ! sing me to rest!”
(F.D. Hemans in Mother! oh, sing me to rest)
“What of the faith and fire within us
Men who march away
Ere the barn-cocks say
Night is growing gray,
Leaving all that here can win us;
What of the faith and fire within us
Men who march away?”
(Th. Hardy in The song of the soldiers)
“In the gloom of whiteness
In the great silence of snow,
A child was sighing and bitterly saying; “Oh,
They have killed a white bird
up there on her nest,
The down is fluttering from her breast!”
And still it fell through that dusky brightness
On the child crying for the bird of the snow.”
(E. Thomas in Snow)