Poems

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Open the door, though the wild winds blow,

Take the child in and make him cosy.

Take him in and hold him dear,

He is the wonderful glad New Year.


–Dinah Maria Mulock Craik (1826–87)

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Chill airs and wintry winds! my ear 

Has grown familiar with your song; 

I hear it in the opening year, 

I listen, and it cheers me long.

 

–Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–32)

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Then welcome, cold, welcome, ye snowy nights! 

Heaven midst your rage shall mingle pure delights. 

And confidence of hope the soul sustain, 

While devastation sweeps along the plain: 

Nor shall the child of poverty despair, 

But bless the Power that rules the changing year; 

Assured, though horrors round his cottage reign, 

That Spring will come, and Nature smile again. 

–Robert Bloomfield (1766–1823)

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All day the gusty north-wind bore 

The loosening drift its breath before; 

Low circling 'round its southern zone, 

The sun through dazzling snow-mist shone. 

–John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–92)

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Oh, what a goodly and a glorious show; 

The stately trees have decked themselves with white, 

And stand transfigured in a robe of light; 

Wearing for each lost leaf a flake of snow. 

–Richard Wilton (1827–1903)

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Winter is there, outside, is here in me: 

Drapes the planets with snow, deepens the ice on the moon, 

Darkens the darkness that was already darkness. 

The mind too has its snows, its slippery paths. 

–Conrad Aiken (1889–1973)

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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. 

–Helen Hunt Jackson (1830–85)

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A cheer for the snow—the drifting snow! 

Smoother and purer than beauty’s brow! 

The creature of thought scarce likes to tread 

On the delicate carpet so richly spread. 

–Eliza Cook (1818–89)

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Not all who wander are lost.

 

–J.R.R. Tolkien (1892–1973)

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The woods are lovely, dark and deep,    

But I have promises to keep,    

And miles to go before I sleep,    

And miles to go before I sleep. 

—Robert Frost (1874–1963)

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Maru Mori brought me 

a pair 

of socks 

which she knitted herself 

with her sheepherder’s hands, 

two socks as soft 

as rabbits. 

–Pablo Neruda, Ode to My Socks (1904–73)

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When February sun shines cold, 

There comes a day when in the air 

The wings of winter 

Slow unfold, 

And show the golden summer there. 

–Philip Savage (1868–99)

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On Candlemas day, 

The good goose begins to lay.

 

–proverb

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On the wind in February 

Snowflakes float still, 

Half inclined to turn to rain, 

Nipping, dripping, chill. 

–Christina Rossetti (1830–94)