Tuesday, December 21, 2010


The Winter's Spring by John Clare

The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please—no bees to hum—
The coming spring's already come.

I never want the Christmas rose

To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.

I never want the grass to bloom:

The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.

I love the snow, the crumpling snow

That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.

It is the foliage of the woods

That winters bring—the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,

Nature's white spurts of the spring. 


  1. This poem really has captured my heart Doris! I so love winter...everything about it!

    I'm off to eat my lunch finally, lol!
    Love You Dear Friend!

  2. I read through a lot of poems before I found this one to share, because it expressed my sentiments towards winter!

  3. I could tell how this meant a lot to you Doris while I read through it. Very lovely indeed!

  4. Beautiful. I love the parts about the crumpling snow and the piercing light. I can almost feel and hear the crunch of it as I walk over it, and am squinting now!!

  5. I wish I could be as happy about winter and enjoy the cold weather as much as you do.

  6. Sprinkles, live in hot and sticky South Georgia and see how quickly you will get fed up with it...or not ;-) everyone's different, I just breathe a lot better in the cold air!