The poem
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!