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On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence.
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence.
Winter is the season in which people try to keep the house as warm as it was in the summer, read more
Winter is the season in which people try to keep the house as warm as it was in the summer, when they complained about the heat.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will read more
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in
winter; the fleshy, in summer. I read more
The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in
winter; the fleshy, in summer. I should say winter had given the
bone and sinew to literature, summer the tissues and the blood.
People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare read more
People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.
And finally Winter, with its bitin', whinin' wind, and all the land will be mantled with snow.
And finally Winter, with its bitin', whinin' wind, and all the land will be mantled with snow.
Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and read more
Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.
His breath like silver arrows pierced the air,
The naked earth crouched shuddering at his feet,
His read more
His breath like silver arrows pierced the air,
The naked earth crouched shuddering at his feet,
His finger on all flowing waters sweet
Forbidding lay--motion nor sound was there:--
Nature was frozen dead,--and still and slow,
A winding sheet fell o'er her body fair,
Flaky and soft, from his wide wings of snow.
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of read more
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes--