Winter Walk
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he holly bush, a sober lump of green,Shines through the leafless shrubs all brown and grey,And smiles at winter be it eer so keenWith all the leafy luxury of May.And O it is delicious, when the dayIn winter's loaded garment keenly blowsAnd turns her back on sudden falling snows,To go where gravel pathways creep betweenArches of evergreen that scarce let throughA single feather of the driving storm;And in the bitterest day that ever blewThe walk will find some places still and warmWhere dead leaves rustle sweet and give alarmTo little birds that flirt and start away.
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