Analysis of The Snowdrop

Thou beautiful new comer,
    With white and maiden brow;
Thou fairy gift from summer,
    Why art thou blooming now?
This dim and sheltered alley
    Is dark with winter green;
Not such as in the valley
    At sweet spring-time is seen.

The lime-tree’s tender yellow,
    The aspen's silvery sheen,

With mingling colours mellow
    The universal green.
Now solemn yews are bending
    Mid gloomy firs around;
And in long dark wreaths descending,
    The ivy sweeps the ground.

No sweet companion pledges
    Thy health as dew-drops pass;
No rose is on the hedges,
    No violet in the grass.
Thou art watching, and thou only,
    Above the earth’s snow tomb;
Thus lovely, and thus lonely,
    I bless thee for thy bloom.

Though the singing rill be frozen,
    While the wind forsakes the west;
Though the singing birds have chosen
    Some lone and silent rest;
Like thee, one sweet thought lingers
    In a heart else cold and dead,
Though the summer’s flowers, and singers,
    And sunshine, long hath fled:

’Tis the love for long years cherished,
    Yet lingering, lorn, and lone;
Though its lovelier lights have perished,
    And its earlier hopes are flown.
Though a weary world hath bound it,
    With many a heavy thrall;
And the cold and changed surround it,
    It blossometh o’er all.