Now let the weather do its worst, With frost and sleet and blowing, Rage like a beldam wild and curst, And have its fill of snowing. Now let the ice in savage vise Grip meadow, brook, and branches, Down from the north pour winter forth In roaring avalanches. I turn my collar to the blast And greet the storm with laughter: Your day, old Winter! use it fast, For Spring is coming after. The world may wear a frigid air, But ah! its heart is burning; Soon, soon will May dance down this way: The year is at the turning. There's not a sabre-charge of cold But brings the blossoms nearer; By every frost-flower we shall hold The violets the dearer. So rage and blow the drifting snow And have your fill of sorrow: The turning years bring smiles for tears; We'll greet the spring to-morrow! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT A QUOI BON DIRE by CHARLOTTE MEW TO ONE SHORTLY TO DIE by WALT WHITMAN VERSES ADDRESSED TO IMITATOR OF FIRST SATIRE OF HORACE by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 3. TO THE CUCKOO by MARK AKENSIDE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 61. AL-MO'HYI by EDWIN ARNOLD REBEL FAITH by WILLIAM ROSE BENET EPITAPH ON THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SUSAN, COUNTESS OF MONTGOMERY by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |