Hello everyone –
Winter has finally
arrived in East Central Illinois, with a dusting of snow and single-digit
temperatures to kick off the “spring” semester at the University of Illinois! 😊 Here are three poems about the wintertime
for you to enjoy as you sit by the fire with a hot cup of tea. And BTW, to
learn more about the Way of Tea, please be sure to visit my Japan House friends
@ https://japanhouse.illinois.edu.
“Winter”
By Walter de la Mare (1873-1956)
Clouded with snow
The cold winds
blow,
And shrill on
leafless bough
The robin with its
burning breast
Alone sings now.
The rayless Sun,
Day's journey
done,
Sheds its last
ebbing light
On fields in
leagues of beauty spread
Unearthly white.
Thick draws the
dark,
And spark by
spark,
The frost-fires
kindle, and soon
Over that sea of
frozen foam
Floats the white
Moon.
“A Calendar of
Sonnets: January”
By Helen Hunt Jackson (1830-1885)
O Winter! frozen
pulse and heart of fire,
What loss is theirs
who from thy kingdom turn
Dismayed, and
think thy snow a sculptured urn
Of death! Far
sooner in midsummer tire
The streams than
under ice. June could not hire
Her roses to
forego the strength they learn
In sleeping on thy
breast. No fires can burn
The bridges thou
dost lay where men desire
In vain to build.
O Heart, when Love's sun goes
To northward, and
the sounds of singing cease,
Keep warm by inner
fires, and rest in peace.
Sleep on content,
as sleeps the patient rose.
Walk boldly on the
white untrodden snows,
The winter is the
winter's own release.
“Winter-Time”
From A
Child’s Garden of Verses (1885)
By Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)
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.
Until next time –
stay warm!
Rob
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