Poem Hunter
Poems
January
CW (1790-1850 / England)

January

COLD January comes in Winter's car,
Thick hung with icicles-its heavy wheels
Cumbered with clogging snow, which cracks and peels
With its least motion or concussive jar
'Gainst hard hid ruts, or hewn trees buried far
In the heaped whiteness which awhile conceals
The green and pastoral earth. Old Christmas feels,-
That well-fed and wine-reeling wassailer,-
With all his feasts and fires, feels cold and shivers,
And the red runnel of his indolent blood
Creeps slow and curdled as a northern flood.
And lakes and winter-rills, impetuous rivers
And headlong cataracts, are in silence bound,
Like trammelled tigers lashed to th'unyielding ground

User Rating: 3,2 / 5 ( 9 votes ) 5

Other poems of WEBB (2)

Comments (5)

winter has just started where I live few drops of snow and cold 25*F
I liked the entire poem but I especially liked: Old Christmas feels, - That well-fed and wine-reeling wassailer, - With all his feasts and fires, feels cold and shivers, - - - might Cornelius Webb also be saying Bah Humbug?
Intriguing poem. I like the last lines the best: And the red runnel of his indolent blood Creeps slow and curdled as a northern flood. And lakes and winter-rills, impetuous rivers And headlong cataracts, are in silence bound, Like trammelled tigers lashed to th'unyielding ground
True poetry, true art! ! Love it! !
Fascinating narration of nature during winter season, especially during the month of January. Thanks for sharing.