"Blow, blow, thou winter wind."
Away from here,
And I shall greet thy passing breath
Without a tear.
I do not love thy snow and sleet
Or icy flows;
When I must jump or stamp to warm
My freezing toes.
For why should I be happy or
E'en be merry,
In weather only fitted for
Cook or Peary.
My eyes are red, my lips are blue
My ears frost bitt'n;
Thy numbing kiss doth e'en extend
Thro' my mitten.
I am cold, no matter how I warm
Or clothe me;
O Winter, greater bards have sung
I loathe thee!
Eugene O'Neill's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (To Winter by Eugene O'Neill )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(June 27, 1936 - February 13, 2010)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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