Now all the roads to London Town Are windy-white with snow; There's shouting and cursing, And snortings to and fro; But when night hangs her hundred lamps, And the snickering frost-fires creep, Then still, O; dale and hill, O; Snow's fall'n deep. @3Then still, O; dale and hill, O; Snow's fall'n deep.@1 The carter cracks his leathery whip; The ostler shouts Gee-whoa; The farm dog grunts and sniffs and snuffs; Bleat sheep; and cattle blow; Soon Moll and Nan in dream are laid, And snoring Dick's asleep; Then still, O; dale and hill, O; Snow's fall'n deep. @3Then still, O; dale and hill, O; Snow's fall'n deep.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WINTER NIGHT by WILLIAM BARNES TENEBRIS by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE MASSACHUSETTS TO VIRGINIA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER LINES PLACED OVER A CHIMNEY-PIECE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD VALUATION by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 7 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |