Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE TYRANT, by NORA M. DUNCAN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE TYRANT, by                    
First Line: Winter, in the cruel clasp of his icy fingers
Last Line: "all the world is mine today! All belongs to me!"
Subject(s): Frost


Winter, in the cruel clasp of his icy fingers,
Holds the whip of scourging frost as he, passing lingers.
With the bite of stinging lash touches vale and hill,
As in slow progressive pomp moves his chariot chill.
Snorting steeds of hail and snow rear upon the bit,
Throwing high their shining hoofs, fiery eyes alit.
And within his hoary beard shouts old Winter King --
(As the green things shrivel up and the birds take wing)
To the vibrance of the blast northern trumpets sound,
To the whistling of the cold as it sears the ground,
To the creak of forest boughs wrapped in glassy sheath,
And the moan of muffled things from the drifts beneath.
To the silence of the day where the river flowed,
And the bleakness of the sky where the warm sun glowed.
Shouts in reckless revelry, in a strident voice --
"All the world is mine today! Now do I rejoice!
Bowed and bended, stark and still, see the great earth cringe.
As on every blanched bough hangs a banner fringe!
Subjugated subjects! Greedily I grasp
Crackling, scourging, stinging frost in my clinging clasp!"
Thus he shouts and chuckles deep in his lusty glee,
"All the world is mine today! All belongs to me!"





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