Comfort.

ON SEEING TWO SWALLOWS LATE in OCTOBER

But, little lingerers, old esteem detains

Ye haply thus to brave the chilly air

When skies grow dull with winter's heavy rains

And all the orchard trees are nearly bare;

Yet the old chimneys still are peeping there

Above the russet thatch where summer's tide

Of sunny joys gave you such social fare

As makes you haply wishing to abide

In your old dwelling through the changing year.

I wish ye well to find a dwelling here,

For in the unsocial weather ye would fling

Gleanings of comfort through the winter wide,

Twittering as wont above the old fireside,

And cheat the surly winter into spring.

John Clare