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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HUNGRY HOUNDS OF WINTER, by EMMA THOMAS SCOVILLE
First Line: The hounds of winter now are here, they bare
Last Line: You blast frail life, with black and certain death.
Subject(s): Animals; Dogs; Winter
First Line: The hounds of winter now are here, they bare
Last Line: You blast frail life, with black and certain death.
Subject(s): Animals; Dogs; Winter
(First in L. A. P. W. National Sonnet Contest, 1934)
The hounds of winter now are here, they bare
Their teeth in wild attack; their quivering cry
Runs trembling through the nipping, frosty air,
While cold stars glitter in the windy sky.
A crescent moon throws out a pale, weird light
On naked trees that groan in icy fear—
The gaunt, gray hounds go chasing through the night,
Their high-pitched baying, faint, then crystal clear.
The frenzied pack race onward with a will,
They cross the barren fields by leaps and bounds—
Fleet-foot it through the valley—make the hill,
Deep belling as they onward sweep—O, hounds
Of winter, with your bitter, piercing breath
You blast frail life, with black and certain death.
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