Cold is the air
The woods are bare
And brown; the herd
Stand in the yard
The frost doth fall;
And round the hill
The hares move slow;
The homeward crow
Alone and high
Crosses the sky
All silently

The quick streams freeze;
The moving trees
Are still; for now
No breeze will blow:
The wind has gone
With the day, down
And clouds are come
Bearing the gloom
The yellow grass
In the clear glass
Of the bright pool
Grows soft and dull

The water's eye
That held the sky
Now glazеs quite;
And now the light
On the cold hill
Fadеth, until
The giant mass
Doth seem to pass
From near to far;
The clouds obscure
The sky with gloom:
The night is come
The night is come