Author: John Clare

---

The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own,
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please—no bees to hum—
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.

---

Type of Poem: Poem

Date Written: 1825-01-01

Date Published: 1825-01-01

Language: English

Keywords: Winter, Solitude, Reflection, Seasons, Nature

Source: Manuscript

Publisher: J. Clare

Rights/Permissions: Public Domain

Comments/Notes: A reflective poem that finds beauty in the solitude of winter, embracing the season as a quiet and simple counterpart to spring.