welcome winter



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,

from The Winter's Spring by John Clare

photo: chris tubbs