Cauld is the e'enin' blast, O' Boreas o'er the pool, An' dawin' it is dreary, When birks are bare at Yule. Cauld blaws the e'enin blast, When bitter bites the frost, And, in the mirk and dreary drift, The hills and glens are lost: Ne'er sae murky blew the night That drifted o'er the hill, But bonnie Peg-a-Ramsay Gat grist to her mill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FLAME LIGHTS UP by DAVID IGNATOW MAGDALEN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE GARDEN BY MOONLIGHT by AMY LOWELL THE MAN WITH THE WOODEN LEG by KATHERINE MANSFIELD EARTH IS ENOUGH by EDWIN MARKHAM THE SPARROW HARK IN THE RAIN (ALEXANDER STEPHENS HEARS NEWS) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS PICKING AND CHOOSING by MARIANNE MOORE |