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Winter

Written by: Walter de la Mare | Biography
 | Quotes (2) |
 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.



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