It is getting dark and time he drew to a house, But the blizzard blinds him to any house ahead. The storm gets down his neck in an icy souse That sucks his breath hke a wicked cat in bed. The snow blows on him and off him, exerting force Downward to make him SIt astride a drift, Imprint a saddle and calmly consider a cuurse. He peers out shrewdly into the thick and swift. Since he means to come to a door he will come to a door, Although so compromised of aim and rate He may fumble wide of the knob a yard or more, And to those concerned he may seem a little late. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 77. AL-MUTAHALI by EDWIN ARNOLD FAUN by ANGELO PHILIP BERTOCCI THE BIRTHPLACE OF DREAMS by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE BY AN INLAND LAKE by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. SISTER HEART by EDWARD CARPENTER MOON-SLANTS by REGINALD LANSING COOK IF WAR IS RIGHT by ALICE (HENDERSON) CORBIN WRITTEN IN A QUARREL (DELIVERY PREVENTED BY RECONCILIATION) by WILLIAM COWPER |