To Winter

William Blake 1757 (Soho) – 1827 (London)



O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.'
He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd, sheathèd
In ribbèd steel; I dare not lift mine eyes,
For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.

Lo! now the direful monster, whose 1000 skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks:
He withers all in silence, and in his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.

He takes his seat upon the cliffs,--the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch, that deal'st
With storms!--till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driv'n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 24, 2023

42 sec read
219

Quick analysis:

Scheme XXXXXXXX XXXX AXAX
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 749
Words 136
Stanzas 3
Stanza Lengths 8, 4, 4

William Blake

William Blake was an English poet, painter and printmaker. more…

All William Blake poems | William Blake Books

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