large/7359/childs_garden_of_verses_1503_librivox_64kb_mp3/childsgardenofverses_07_stevenson_64kb_1
large/7359/childs_garden_of_verses_1503_librivox_64kb_mp3/childsgardenofverses_07_stevenson_64kb
English
7359
Black are my steps on silver sod; Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; And tree and house, and hill and lake, Are frosted like a wedding cake. BLACKER ARE MY STEPS ON SILVER SOD THICK BLOWS MY FROSTY THREAT ABROAD AND TREE AND HOUSE AND HILL AND LAKE ARE FROSTED LIKE A WE WEDDING CAKE
: All of the sights of the hill and the plain Fly as thick as driving rain; And ever again, in the wink of an eye, Painted stations whistle by. Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, All by himself and gathering brambles; Here is a tramp who stands and gazes; And there is the green for stringing the daisies Here is a cart run away in the road Lumping along with man and load; And here is a mill, and there is a river: Each a glimpse and gone for ever! WINTER-TIME Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; Blinks but an hour or two; and then, A blood-red orange, sets again. Before the stars have left the skies, At morning in the dark I rise; And shivering in my nakedness, By the cold candle, bathe and dress. Close by the jolly fire I sit To warm my frozen bones a bit; Or with a reindeer-sled, explore The colder countries round the door. When to go out, my nurse doth wrap Me in my comforter and cap; The cold wind burns my face, and blows Its frosty pepper up my nose. GH THE MEADOWS AND HORSES AND CATTLE ALL OF THE SIGHT OF THE HILL AND THE PLAIN FLY AS THICK AS DRIVER GRATE AND EVER GET IN THE WINK OF AN EYE PAID THE STATIONS WHISTLE BY HERE IS THE CHILDHOOD CLAPPERS ITS GRABBLES ALL BY HIMSELF A GATHERED BRAMBLES HERE THE TRAP WHO STAB THE GATE AND THERE'S DEGREED FOR STRINGING THE DAISIES HERE'S THE CART RIGHT AWAY UP THE ROAD LUMPING ALONG WITH A MAN AND A LOAD AND HERE'S A MILL AND THERE THE RIVER EACH A GLIMPSE AND GONE FOR EVER WINTER TIME LATE LIES THE WINTRY SUN ABED A FROSTY FIERY SLEEPY HEAD BLINKS BUT AN HOUR OR TWO AND THEN A BLOOD RED ORANGE SETS AGAIN BEFORE THE STARS HAVE LEFT THE SKIES AT MORNING IN THE DARK I RISE AND SHRIVEN IN MY NAKEDNESS BY THE COLD CANDLE BATHE UNDRESS CLOSE BY THE JOLLY FIRE I SIT TO WARM MY FROZEN BONES A BIT OR WITH A REINDEER SLED EXPLORE THE COLDER COUNTRIES ROUND THE DOOR WHEN TO GO OUT MY NURSE THOUGH WRAPPED ME IN MY COMFORTER AND CAP THE COLD WIND BURNED MY FAITH AND BLOWS ITS FROSTY PEPPER UP MY NOSE
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