Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WINDOW; OR, THE SONGS OF THE WRENS: WINTER, by ALFRED TENNYSON

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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE WINDOW; OR, THE SONGS OF THE WRENS: WINTER, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: The frost is here
Last Line: But not into mine.
Alternate Author Name(s): Tennyson, Lord Alfred; Tennyson, 1st Baron; Tennyson Of Aldworth And Farringford, Baron
Subject(s): Winter

The frost is here,
And fuel is dear,
And woods are sear,
And fires burn clear,
And frost here
And has bitten the heel of the going year.

Bite, frost, bite!
You roll up away from the light
The blue wood-louse and the plump dormouse,
And the bees are still'd, and the flies are kill'd,
And you bite far into the heart of the house,
But not into mine.

Bite, frost, bite!
The woods are all the searer,
The fuel is all the dearer,
The fires are all the clearer,
My spring is all the nearer,
You have bitten into the heart of the earth,
But not into mine.

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