 | Sonnets of the Wingless Hours |  |
88
WINTER.
Now is the time when Nature may display
Her frosty jewelry in all men's eyes,
And every breeze that through the brushwood sighs
Brings down her brilliants in a glittering spray.
Her frosty jewelry in all men's eyes,
And every breeze that through the brushwood sighs
Brings down her brilliants in a glittering spray.
Like drops of blood upon the snow-strewn way,
The crimson berries lie, the robins' prize;
While, in the leafless woods, the poor man tries
To find some faggots for the bitter day.
The crimson berries lie, the robins' prize;
While, in the leafless woods, the poor man tries
To find some faggots for the bitter day.
On every sleeping pool the winter fits
With unseen hand a strong and glassy lid;
The frightened fish beneath the skater flits,
With unseen hand a strong and glassy lid;
The frightened fish beneath the skater flits,
And quaking, in the lowest depths lies hid;
And old King Christmas at his revel sits,
Where all whom hunger pinches not are bid.
And old King Christmas at his revel sits,
Where all whom hunger pinches not are bid.
| Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | |