ON the flat road a man at last appears: How much his whitening hairs Owe to the settling snow's mute anchorage, And how much to a life's rough pilgrimage, One cannot certify. The frost is on the wane, And cobwebs hanging close outside the pane Pose as festoons of thick white worsted there, Of their pale presence no eye being aware Till the rime made them plain. A second man comes by; His ruddy beard brings fire to the pallid scene: His coat is faded green; Hence seems it that his mien Wears something of the dye Of the berried holm-trees that he passes nigh. The snow-feathers so gently swoop that though But half an hour ago The road was brown, and now is starkly white, A watcher would have failed defining quite When it transformed it so. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING'S WELCOME, FR. ALEXANDER AND CAMPASPE by JOHN LYLY OH, TORTURE NOT MY SOUL! by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS TO GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, ESQ., ON SEEING HIS PICTURE ... by MATTHEW ARNOLD TO H. M. by FRANCIS BARNARD (20TH CENTURY) THY BIRTHDAY by CLAUDE A. BARR THE TRIUMPHS OF THY CONQUERING POWER by WILLIAM HILEY BATHURST |