Early 19th Century Poetry in Lieu of Spring & Organic Cotton Long Johns

26 Mar 2013
Organic Underwear

Ancient folkloric legend has it that Spring invariably follows a long Winter and that menfolk must endure 90 days of harsh weather  bravely, determinedly and stoically as Cock & Bull Men. 

As this winter has been one of the longest since records began in the UK, and we have stupidly packed away our organic cotton long johns we have retreated to the warmer environs of the  kitchen to contemplate early 19th Century Poetry. 

Here's a wee ditty that put a smile on our face together with a snap-shot of the wintery sky in Walthamstow, East London today:


THE DAY is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.


 My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

And the days are dark and dreary.


 Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.


Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)



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