Philip Larkin
First Sights
Lambs that learn to walk in snow
When their bleating clouds into the air
Meet a vast unwelcome, know
Nothing but a sunless glare.
Newly stumbling to and fro
All they find, outside the fold,
Is a wretched width of cold.
As they wait beside the ewe,
Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies
Hidden round them, waiting too,
Earth's immeasurable surprise.
They could not grasp it if they knew
What will soon wake and grow
Utterly unlike the snow.