Charles Tennyson Turner (Чарльз Теннисон Тернер)

Loss and Restoration of Smell

Dull to the year's first odours, I rebelled
Against the law which doomed the violets
Ere I had smelt them; but, ere long, I held
A quickened nostril over all the sweets
Of the full summer--for I had besuoght
The All-Giver to restore my blunted sense;
Humbly I prayed, and breath of roses brought
The answer. O! it was a joy intense,
After that dreary interval of loss.
I laughed, I ran about as one possessed;
And now that winter seems my hopes to cross
I snuff the very frost with happy zest,
Proud of recovered power, and fain to win
Fresh triumphs for it, when the Spring comes in.

1. East or West?
2. We Cannot Keep Delight
3. From Harvest to January
4. The Rookery
5. The Buoy-Bell

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