A wrinkled, crabbed man they picture thee, Old Winter, with a rugged beard as gray As the long moss upon the apple-tree; Blue-lipped, an ice-drop at thy sharp blue nose, Close muffled up, and on thy dreary way, Plodding alone through sleet and drifting snows. They should have drawn thee by the high-heaped hearth, Old Winter! seated in thy great armed chair, Watching the children at their Christmas mirth; Or circled by them as thy lips declare Some merry jest or tale of murder dire, Or troubled spirit that disturbs the night, Pausing at times to rouse the moldering fire, Or taste the old October brown and bright. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRY OF THE HUMAN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TO THE VIRGINIAN VOYAGE [1611] by MICHAEL DRAYTON THE MOTHER IN THE HOUSE by HERMANN HAGEDORN CLOTHES DO BUT CHEAT AND COZEN US by ROBERT HERRICK THE LAST GOODBYE by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON SUDDEN LIGHT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |