Winter geese

Yon ponds thick ice for waiting stock to drink 

A wild confusion momentary wakes 

From gabbling geese that loiter on the brink 

Long lockd from water by the winter grim 

They mope & linger round their haunts in vain 

Till such scant chances gives them leave to swim 

& there they clamour till its froze again 

Now as one fails the beaten track to meet 

Of milking maids & early foddering boys 

The snow harsh presses neath ones hastning feet 

Crumping & crumping with incessant noise 

& brushing branches bye till then unstird 

A powdery shower keeps constant pothering round 

& een from movments of a startld bird 

The trees white cloathing shivers to the ground 


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