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235
The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft
·
George Gissing
21
VIII.
The
early
coming
of
spring
in
this
happy
Devon
gladdens
my
heart.
I
think
with
chill
discomfort
of
those
parts
of
England
where
the
primrose
shivers
beneath
a
sky
of
threat
rather
than
of
solace.
Honest
winter,
snow-clad
and
with
the
frosted
beard,
I
can
welcome
not
uncordially;
but
that
long
deferment
of
the
calendar's
promise,
that
weeping
gloom
of
March
and
April,
that
bitter
blast
outraging
the
honour
of
May--how
often
has
it
robbed
me
of
heart
and
hope.
Here,
scarce
have
I
assured
myself
that
the
last
leaf
has
fallen,
scarce
have
I
watched
the
glistening
of
hoar-frost
upon
the
evergreens,
when
a
breath
from
the
west
thrills
me
with
anticipation
of
bud
and
bloom.
Even
under
this
grey-billowing
sky,
which
tells
that
February
is
still
in
rule:--
Mild
winds
shake
the
elder
brake,
And
the
wandering
herdsmen
know
That
the
whitethorn
soon
will
blow.
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