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Poem by Thomas Hardy
Winter in Durnover Field
SCENE. – A wide stretch of fallow ground recently sown with wheat, and frozen to iron hardness. Three large birds walking about thereon, and wistfully eyeing the surface. Wind keen from north-east: sky a dull grey.
(Triolet) Rook. – Throughout the field I find no grain; The cruel frost encrusts the cornland! Starling. – Aye: patient pecking now is vain Throughout the field, I find... Rook. – No grain! Pigeon. – Nor will be, comrade, till it rain, Or genial thawings loose the lorn land Throughout the field. Rook. – I find no grain: The cruel frost encrusts the cornland!
Thomas Hardy
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