January 28, 2009

• Winter-Time
  by Robert Louis Stevenson

  Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
  A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
  Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
  A blood-red orange, sets again.

  Before the stars have left the skies,
  At morning in the dark I rise;
  And shivering in my nakedness,
  By the cold candle, bathe and dress.

  Close by the jolly fire I sit
  To warm my frozen bones a bit;
  Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
  The colder countries round the door.

  When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
  Me in my comforter and cap;
  The cold wind burns my face, and blows
  Its frosty pepper up my nose.

  Black are my steps on silver sod;
  Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
  And tree and house, and hill and lake,
  Are frosted like a wedding cake.

  
  

    

   
  

  • 7:43 am
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