Dec. 5: That Green and Pleasant Land

When we saw Big Ben on today’s Advent door, we crossed our fingers for Cream of Earl Grey tea. Our luck paid off.

The thing about Cream of Earl Grey is that it’s the rare Earl Grey we like. Typically, we associate it with the taste of soap. But there’s a couple non-bergamot ingredients in this tea that round it out nicely. Sadly, we used it all up over three pots today. Just file it under Twas We Want More Of.

So, what do you pair with a beloved tea? A beloved poem. If you’ve been here before, you can probably see this one coming.

We have no apologies. It’s late, we’ve been dancing, and what’s not to love about Thomas Harry’s nature poetry? He’s not even offending one or both wives here!

The Darkling Thrush

Thomas Hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate
      When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter’s dregs made desolate
      The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
      Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
      Had sought their household fires.
The land’s sharp features seemed to be
      The Century’s corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
      The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
      Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
      Seemed fervourless as I.
At once a voice arose among
      The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
      Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
      In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
      Upon the growing gloom.
So little cause for carolings
      Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
      Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
      His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

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