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.

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.

Over the river and through the wood,
To grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way
read more

Over the river and through the wood,
To grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way
To carry the sleigh,
Through the white and drifted snow.

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.

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems read more

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.

Up rose the wild old winter-king,
And shook his beard of snow;
"I hear the first young read more

Up rose the wild old winter-king,
And shook his beard of snow;
"I hear the first young hard-bell ring,
'Tis time for me to go!
Northward o'er the icy rocks,
Northward o'er the sea,
My daughter comes with sunny locks:
This land's too warm for me!"

When now, unsparing as the scourge of war,
Blasts follow blasts and groves dismantled roar;
Around their read more

When now, unsparing as the scourge of war,
Blasts follow blasts and groves dismantled roar;
Around their home the storm-pinched cattle lows,
No nourishment in frozen pasture grows;
Yet frozen pastures every morn resound
With fair abundance thund'ring to the ground.

And for the season it was winter, and they that know the winters
of that country know them to read more

And for the season it was winter, and they that know the winters
of that country know them to be sharp and violent, and subject to
cruel and fierce storms. . . . For summer being done, all things
stand upon them with a weather-beaten face, and the whole
country, full of woods and thickets, represented a wild and
savage hue.

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou build thy dark,
Deep-founded read more

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou build thy dark,
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.