Summer fading, winter comes -- Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs, Window robins, winter rooks, And the picture story-books. Water now is turned to stone Nurse and I can walk upon; Still we find the flowing brooks In the picture story-books. All the pretty things put by, Wait upon the children's eye, Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks, In the picture story-books. We may see how all things are Seas and cities, near and far, And the flying fairies' looks, In the picture story-books. How am I to sing your praise, Happy chimney-corner days, Sitting safe in nursery nooks, Reading picture story-books? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEA GODS: 2 by HILDA DOOLITTLE A NEWPORT ROMANCE by FRANCIS BRET HARTE FOR DECORATION DAY: 1861-1865 by RUPERT HUGHES SHILLIN' A DAY by RUDYARD KIPLING THE CROWING OF THE RED COCK by EMMA LAZARUS MEDITATIONS OF A HINDU [OR, HINDOO] PRINCE [AND SKEPTIC] by ALFRED COMYNS LYALL THE BAYADERE by FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS |