I tell my secret? No indeed, not I: <br />Perhaps some day, who knows? <br />But not today; it froze, and blows, and snows, <br />And you're too curious: fie! <br />You want to hear it? well: <br />Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell. <br /> <br />Or, after all, perhaps there's none: <br />Suppose there is no secret after all, <br />But only just my fun. <br />Today's a nipping day, a biting day; <br />In which one wants a shawl, <br />A veil, a cloak, and other wraps: <br />I cannot ope to every one who taps, <br />And let the draughts come whistling thro' my hall; <br />Come bounding and surrounding me, <br />Come buffeting, astounding me, <br />Nipping and clipping thro' my wraps and all. <br />I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows <br />His nose to Russian snows <br />To be pecked at by every wind that blows? <br />You would not peck? I thank you for good will, <br />Believe, but leave that truth untested still. <br /> <br />Spring's and expansive time: yet I don't trust <br />March with its peck of dust, <br />Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers, <br />Nor even May, whose flowers <br />One frost may wither thro' the sunless hours. <br />Perhaps some languid summer day, <br />When drowsy birds sing less and less, <br />And golden fruit is ripening to excess, <br />If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud, <br />And the warm wind is neither still nor loud, <br />Perhaps my secret I may say, <br />Or you may guess.<br /><br />Christina Georgina Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/winter-my-secret/
