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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
FROST, by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS Poet's Biography First Line: How small a tooth hath mined the season's heart Last Line: And sets a mimic garden, cold and bright. Subject(s): Frost; Nature | |||
HOW small a tooth hath mined the season's heart! How cold a touch hath set the wood on fire, Until it blazes like a costly pyre Built for some Ganges emperor, old and swart, Soul-sped on clouds of incense! Whose the art That webs the streams, each morn, with silver wire, Delicate as the tension of a lyre, -- Whose falchion pries the chestnut-bur apart? It is the Frost, a rude and Gothic sprite, Who doth unbuild the Summer's palaced wealth, And puts her dear loves all to sword or flight; Yet in the hushed, unmindful winter's night The spoiler builds again with jealous stealth, And sets a mimic garden, cold and bright. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTERRUPTED MEDITATION by ROBERT HASS TWO VIEWS OF BUSON by ROBERT HASS THE FATALIST: HOME by LYN HEJINIAN WRITING IS AN AID TO MEMORY: 17 by LYN HEJINIAN LET US GATHER IN A FLOURISHING WAY by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA IN MICHAEL ROBINS?ÇÖS CLASS MINUS ONE by HICOK. BOB BREADTH. CIRCLE. DESERT. MONARCH. MONTH. WISDOM by JOHN HOLLANDER VARIATIONS: 16 by CONRAD AIKEN UNHOLY SONNET 13 by MARK JARMAN INSOMNIA by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS |
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