Winter in Durnover Field - Thomas Hardy

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. 

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!