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Winter-time

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Winter-time

Robert Louis Stevenson (from A Child’s Garden of Verses, 1885)

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.

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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.

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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.

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When I go out, my nurse doth wrap,

Me in my comforter and a cap,

The cold wind burns my face, and blows,

Its frosty pepper up my nose.

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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.

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