While snow the window-panes bedim, <br />The fire curls up a sunny charm, <br />Where, creaming o'er the pitcher's rim, <br />The flowering ale is set to warm; <br />Mirth, full of joy as summer bees, <br />Sits there, its pleasures to impart, <br />And children, 'tween their parent's knees, <br />Sing scraps of carols o'er by heart. <br /> <br />And some, to view the winter weathers, <br />Climb up the window-seat with glee, <br />Likening the snow to falling feathers, <br />In fancy infant ecstasy; <br />Laughing, with superstitious love, <br />O'er visions wild that youth supplies, <br />Of people pulling geese above, <br />And keeping Christmas in the skies. <br /> <br />As tho' the homestead trees were drest, <br />In lieu of snow, with dancing leaves, <br />As tho' the sun-dried martin's nest, <br />Instead of ickles, hung the eaves, <br />The children hail the happy day - <br />As if the snow were April's grass, <br />And pleas'd, as 'neath the warmth of May, <br />Sport o'er the water froze as glass.<br /><br />John Clare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/december-32/
