<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506419" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Winter Night</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When biting Boreas, fell and doure,<br>Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r; <br>When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,<br> Far south the lift,<br>Dim-dark'ning thro' the flaky show'r,<br> Or whirling drift:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ae night the storm the steeples rocked,<br>Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked,<br>While burns, wi' snawy wreeths upchoked,<br> Wild-eddying swirl,<br>Or thro' the mining outlet bocked,<br> Down headlong hurl.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">List'ning, the doors an' winnocks rattle,<br>I thought me on the ourie cattle,<br>Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle<br> O' winter war,<br>And thro' the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle,<br> Beneath a scar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing! <br>That, in the merry months o' spring,<br>Delighted me to hear thee sing,<br> What comes o' thee? <br>Whare wilt thou cow'r thy chittering wing<br> An' close thy e'e? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ev'n you on murd'ring errands toil'd,<br>Lone from your savage homes exil'd,<br>The blood-stain'd roost, and sheep-cote spoil'd<br> My heart forgets,<br>While pityless the tempest wild<br> Sore on you beats.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Burns">Robert Burns</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=506419" data-title="A Winter Night de Robert Burns" data-description="When biting Boreas, fell and doure, Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r; When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r, Far south the lift, Dim-dark'ning thro' the flaky show'r, Or whirling drift: Ae night the storm the steeples rocked, Poor Labou..."></div> </div> </div>

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