The sky above is an icy blue, Like a sapphire dome so cold and hard; The earth with snow is clothed anew -- Last night her beauty seemed so marred By the killing frost and the wintry blast, And she looked so sad and desolate, That I pitied her, but that is past, And now she smiles in her robes of state. The icicles hang from the leafless trees, A winter foliage rare and bright; Fitfully tossed to and fro by the breeze, Sparkling like gems in the sun's warm light. No robin sings from the frozen bough Where his nest was built in the summer time; His northern home is deserted now, And he carols his notes in a milder clime. The evergreen is white with snow, White as a fruit-tree in springtime bloom; Each bough with its burden fair bends low, And waves like some gallant warrior's plume. Silent the forest now and bare, For winter rules with a rigorous hand; Silent the circumambient air, Silent the snow-encompassed land. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 2 by JAMES JOYCE QUEST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A LITTLE GIRL'S PRAYER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: ALMA BELL TO THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |