THE cold may burn us sadly Like fire, and mortals hurry Amidst the snowdrift madly, With still-increasing flurry. O winter stern and chilly, When frozen are our noses, And piano-strumming silly Our ears so discomposes! I like the summer only When in the wood I'm roving With my own griefs all-lonely, And scanning verses loving. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MADAME DE SEVIGNE by MATHIEU DE MONTREUIL ODE TO MASTER ANTHONY STAFFORD [TO HASTEN HIM INTO COUNTRY] by THOMAS RANDOLPH ROCOCO by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE WITH MY FANCY by KONSTANTIN DMITRIYEVICH BALMONT BLESS THE BLESSED MORN by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR THE VICTORY-WRECK by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON |