When Winter scourged the meadow and the hill And in the withered leafage worked his will, The water shrank, and shuddered, and stood still,— Then built himself a magic house of glass, Irised with memories of flowers and grass, Wherein to sit and watch the fury pass. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOBODY'S LOOKIN' BUT DE OWL AND DE MOON (A NEGRO SERENADE) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TO THE POOR by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A SERMON AT CLEVEDON; GOOD FRIDAY by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN LOVERS' INFINITENESS by JOHN DONNE ABRAHAM LINCOLN (1) by RICHARD HENRY STODDARD MY BEAUTIFUL LADY by THOMAS WOOLNER |