Virginia Lyne Tunstall
The willow tree, which took the blast
With every slender pointed sail,
Has flung her final leaf at last,
And bends stark naked to the gale.
Among the frozen garden walks
In sombre vestments screams a crow,
Disputing in the tattered stalks
The stealthy tenantry of snow.
Swept by the hurrying wind's unrest,
The drifts against the hedge lie blown.
one tranquil star, deep in the west,
Watches the world alone.