I saw Jack Frost come louping o'er A hill of blinding snow; And hooked upon his arm he bore A basket all aglow. Cherries and damsons, peach and pear, The faint and moonlike quince; Never before were fruits as rare, And never have been since. 'Come, will ye buy, ma'am?' says he sweet; And lo! began to fly Flakes of bright, arrowy, frozen sleet From out the rosy sky. 'Silver nor pence, ma'am, ask I; but One kiss my cheek to warm, -- One with your scarlet lips tight shut Can do you, ma'am, no harm.' O, and I stooped in that still place And pressed my lips to his; And his cold locks about my face Shut darkness in my eyes. Never, now never shall I be Lonely where snow is laid; Sweet with his fruits comes louping he, And says the words he said. His shrill voice echoes, slily creep His fingers cold and lean, And lull my dazzled eyes asleep His icy locks between. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE REVEALER by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE BOSTON EVENING TRANSCRIPT by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT ODE IN MEMORY OF THE AMERICAN VOLUNTEERS FALLEN FOR FRANCE by ALAN SEEGER THE HAPPY WARRIOR by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |