SCENE.—A wide stretch of fallow ground recently sown with wheat, and frozen to iron hardness. Three large birds walking about thereon, and wistfully eyeing the surface. Wind keen from north-east: sky a dull grey.

(TRIOLET)

Rook.—Throughout the field I find no grain;
        The cruel frost encrusts the cornland!
Starling.—Aye: patient pecking now is vain
        Throughout the field, I find . . .
Rook.—No grain!
Pigeon.—Nor will be, comrade, till it rain,
        Or genial thawings loose the lorn land
        Throughout the field.
Rook.—I find no grain:
        The cruel frost encrusts the cornland!