Ode To Winter

zoeflake:

(last stanza)

But chiefly spare, O king of clouds!
The sailor on his airy shrouds,
When wrecks and beacons strew the deep
And spectres walk along the deep.
Milder yet thy snowy breezes
Pour on yonder tented shores,
Where the Rhine’s broad billow freezes,
Or the dark-brown Danube roars.
O winds of Winter! list ye there
To many a deep and dying groan?
Or start, ye demons of the midnight air,
At shrieks and thunders louder than your own?
Alas! e’en your unhallow’d breath
May spare the victim fallen low;
But Man will ask no truce to death,
No bounds to human woe.

—Thomas Campbell, Germany, December, 1800

Maddy Prior & June Tabor – Grey Funnel Line

For you, Sailor @thoughtsofawilf