Winter Poems - William Blake

 

Echo Summit, South Lake Tahoe, by Jared Manninen

To Winter

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:

The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark

Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,

Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.

He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep

Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd; sheathed

In ribbed steel, I dare not lift mine eyes;

For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.

Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings

To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks:

He withers all in silence, and his hand

Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.

He takes his seat upon the cliffs, the mariner

Cries in vain. Poor little wretch! that deal'st

With storms; till heaven smiles, and the monster

Is drv'n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.

Silent, Silent Night

Silent Silent Night

Quench the holy light

Of thy torches bright

For possessed of Day

Thousand spirits stray

That sweet joys betray

Why should joys be sweet

Used with deceit

Nor with sorrows meet

But an honest joy

Does itself destroy

For a harlot coy

Soft Snow

I walked abroad in a snowy day

I asked the soft snow with me to play

She playd & she melted in all her prime

And the winter calld it a dreadful crime

BIO: William Blake (1757-1827) was a poet, painter, engraver, and mystic. Born in London, he studied at the Royal Academy School. He became proficient at watercolors and often illustrated books for a living. A dreamer, he hated rationalism and materialism, which stressed science and acute awareness of the physical world. He believed in freedom of thought and inspiring the imagination. He published three books of poetry between 1783 and 1794. He also published several works of mystical writings -- The Book of Thel (1789), The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1791), and The Song of Los (1795).