Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO THE POET IN AUTUMN by MARGARET FRASER

First Line: NOW BE THE SHARPENED COLD
Last Line: AND THE DREAMY BLOOD; BE WINTER!
Now be the sharpened cold
That startles drowsy ground:
With words alert and bold,
Inflict a frosty wound!

Come freeze our breath to stone,
O tingling mind, and splinter
The sleep of the stolid bone
And the dreamy blood; be Winter!



Home: PoetryExplorer.net