 | The Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes |  |
FOR MISS HOWELLS' ALBUM
APRIL 24, 1887
It is winter with me now,—
Not a pippin on the bough
Save a single “froze-n-thaw”;
Spread your lap and it shall fall,—
It's an apple after all,
Though it's neither roast nor raw.
Not a pippin on the bough
Save a single “froze-n-thaw”;
Spread your lap and it shall fall,—
It's an apple after all,
Though it's neither roast nor raw.
So my verse its life has lost
In its battles with the frost
And I fear the branch will break
While the leafless tree I climb
For this “froze-n-thaw” of rhyme
For a dear young maiden's sake.
In its battles with the frost
And I fear the branch will break
While the leafless tree I climb
For this “froze-n-thaw” of rhyme
For a dear young maiden's sake.
| The Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes | |