| Winter-time |
| Robert Louis Stevenson |
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Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; Blinks but an hour or two; and then, A blood-red orange, sets again. |
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Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise; And shivering in my nakedness, By the cold candle, bathe and dress. |
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Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit; Or with a reindeer-sled, explore The colder countries round the door. |
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When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap; The cold wind burns my face, and blows Its frosty pepper up my nose. |
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Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; And tree and house, and hill and lake, Are frosted like a wedding cake. |
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