In the poem, The Darkling Thrush, the poet paints a desolate winter scene at the close of day. The people all around had retired indoors. The area all-around was as pale as a ghost and the pale sun (the weakening eye of day) looked desolate and grey in the dregs of winter. The poet is leaning upon a coppice gate as he looks at the scene around him. The bare trees looked like the strings of broken lyres. The sharp features of the landscape appeared to be the corpse or dead body of the dying century. The canopy of clouds seemed to be the crypt of the century’s corpse and the sound made by the wind seemed like its death lament. The process of birth and growth seemed to have stopped in the harsh winter. Every being on earth seem to reflect the sense of apathy felt by the poet. Man has lost the sense of fellowship and kinship which keeps a community together. Since the world outside (by extension the spiritual, emotional and social) did not give the sense of community and warmth, Man had retired indoors to seek warmth within himself.