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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419475" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Snow Storm</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What a night! The wind howls, hisses, and but stops<br>To howl more loud, while the snow volley keeps<br>Incessant batter at the window pane,<br>Making our comfort feel as sweet again;<br>And in the morning, when the tempest drops,<br>At every cottage door mountainous heaps<br>Of snow lie drifted, that all entrance stops<br>Untill the beesom and the shovel gain<br>The path, and leave a wall on either side.<br>The shepherd rambling valleys white and wide<br>With new sensations his old memory fills,<br>When hedges left at night, no more descried,<br>Are turned to one white sweep of curving hills,<br>And trees turned bushes half their bodies hide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The boy that goes to fodder with surprise<br>Walks oer the gate he opened yesternight.<br>The hedges all have vanished from his eyes;<br>Een some tree tops the sheep could reach to bite.<br>The novel scene emboldens new delight,<br>And, though with cautious steps his sports begin,<br>He bolder shuffles the huge hills of snow,<br>Till down he drops and plunges to the chin,<br>And struggles much and oft escape to win--<br>Then turns and laughs but dare not further go;<br>For deep the grass and bushes lie below,<br>Where little birds that soon at eve went in<br>With heads tucked in their wings now pine for day<br>And little feel boys oer their heads can stray.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Clare">John Clare</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419475" data-title="Snow Storm de John Clare" data-description="What a night! The wind howls, hisses, and but stops
To howl more loud, while the snow volley keeps
Incessant batter at the window pane,
Making our comfort feel as sweet again;
And in the morning, when the tempest drops,
At every cottage door mount..."></div>
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