NAY, is it now you'd have me take the hill, Voice from the snow line, far away and mocking? In August, well, you might have roused a thrill, But now, when sleet showers drive and pines are rocking In the keen north-east wind, I find The cheery hearth and a dry boot and stocking More to my mind Than the wet mountain and your wild cok-coking! In August, yes, 'twas doubtless vastly well, When butterflies and bees and guns together Made holiday in dingle and in dell, To seek you 'mid a charm of sky and weather, With a fair interlude For food, In sunshine that could tan one's cheeks to leather, Before I strewed Again your youthful kind upon the heather! I know the game to-day—the snow, the blast Down which the swinging packs will whirr and whizz hard, I'd hear your ramping pinions whistle past, And—I should miss you, nipped of nose and gizzard, And drain the futile dram, And damn The braes, the bleakness, and the brutal blizzard, For oh, I am A chilly thing and "meagre as a lizard"! I come not at your challenge, haughty bird! Let the more earnest and the harder bitten, If they should choose to make themselves absurd, Compass your end in mackintosh and mitten; I find my sole desire The fire, And this great padded chair which now I sit on, Nor shall I tire Of pipes and papers and the Persian kitten! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A REPUBLICAN FRIEND, 1848 by MATTHEW ARNOLD SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 35 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ON LIVING, FROM LIFE IS A DREAM by PEDRO CALDERON DE LA BARCA GOD AND HIS MARTYRS by CHAIM NACHMAN BIALIK PSALM 1. THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE WICKED CONTRASTED by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |