Poem of the Week
January 5, 2004
The snow lies deep upon the ground,
The birds sing sweetly in the trees,
The scent of roses all around
Is borne upon the icy breeze.
Upon each irrigating stream,
The skating youth indulge in play,
While women folks, like fairies, beam
In summer hats and white pekay.
The plumber taps the pipe that's froze,
And tears up ceiling, side and floor,
While around about the ice-man goes
And leaves his chattels at our door.
This man with frozen hands and feet
Is hurried off and put to bed ;
Another, prostrate by the heat,
Wears cabbage leaves upon his head.
Thus speeds the winter in our state
A batch of contradictions rude ;
And we assign our varying fate
To this peculiar altitude.
November 3d, 1881.
--Eugene Field