IS it not fine to walk in spring, When leaves are born, and hear birds sing? And when they lose their singing powers, In summer, watch the bees at flowers? Is it not fine, when summer's past, To have the leaves, no longer fast, Biting my heel where'er I go, Or dancing lightly on my toe? Now winter's here and rivers freeze; As I walk out I see the trees, Wherein the pretty squirrels sleep, All standing in the snow so deep: And every twig, however small, Is blossomed white and beautiful. Then welcome, winter, with thy power To make this tree a big white flower; To make this tree a lovely sight, With fifty brown arms draped in white, While thousands of small fingers show In soft white gloves of purest snow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TERRIBLE SONNETS: 3 by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS RIDDLE: A BLACKSMITH by MOTHER GOOSE THE ARTILLERYMAN'S VISION by WALT WHITMAN TRACT by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE SAD SHEPHERD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 10. TO THE MUSE by MARK AKENSIDE THE IMPROVISATORE: THE INDUCTION TO THE FIRST FYTTE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |