BRUEGHEL'S WINTER
JAGG'n mountain peaks and skies ice-green Wall in the wild cold scene below.
Churches, farms, bare copse—the Sea In freezing air of winter show.
There ink-black shapes on fields in flood Curling, skating, and sliding go.
To left, a slant-signed Tavern ; a blaze ; Peasants ; a watching child ; and lo, Muffled and mute, beneath naked trees— In sharp perspective set a-row- Trudge huntsmen, sinister spear aslant, Dogs snuffling behind them in the snow ; And arrowlikei lean, athwart the air, Swoops into Space a crow.
But flame, nor ice, nor piercing rock, Nor silence, as of a frozen sea, Nor that slant inward infinite line Of signboard, bird, and hill, and tree More than give subtle hint of him Who squandered here life's mystery, And—deathless made—his company.
WALTER DE LA MARE.
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