Poem Lake | Page 3 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

An Elegy on Winter in Argyleshire ‘With cheerless gloom and storm-portending clouds Rude Winter brushes from Antarctic wilds, The front of Heav’n, in murky vapours shrouds, Then bursts his sounding freightage o’er our isles. No more are heard the thrush’s mellow... Poet:	Gloomy Winter's noo awa Gloomy Winter's noo awa'; soft the westlin breezes blaw. Among the birks o' Stanley shaw the mavis sings fu' cheerie O. Sweet the crawflowers early bell decks Glenifer's dewy dell. Blooming like your bonny sel', my ain my airtless dearie O... Poet:	In Winter in my Room In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm — Pink, lank and warm — But as he was a worm And worms presume Not quite with him at home — Secured him by a string To something neighboring ... Poet:	Some, too fragile for winter winds Some, too fragile for winter winds The thoughtful grave encloses — Tenderly tucking them in from frost Before their feet are cold. Never the treasures in her nest The cautious grave exposes, Building... Poet:
The Task (Cowper)/Book IV ─ The Winter Evening Hark! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge, That with its wearisome but needful length Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright; — He comes, the herald of a noisy world, ... Poet:	The Task (Cowper)/Book V ─ The Winter Morning Walk 'Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb Ascending, fires th' horizon: while the clouds, That crowd away before the driving wind, More ardent as the disk emerges more, Resemble most some city in a blaze, Seen through... Poet:	The Task (Cowper)/Book VI ─ The Winter Walk at Noon There is in souls a sympathy with sounds; And, as the mind is pitch'd, the ear is pleas'd With melting airs, or martial, brisk, or grave: Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies. ... Poet:	The Winter Nosegay THE WINTER NOSEGAY. What Nature, alas! has denied To the delicate growth of our isle, Art has in a measure supplied, And Winter is deck'd with a smile. See... Poet:
Winter in Summer Poet:	Winter is good — his Hoar Delights Winter is good — his Hoar Delights Italic flavor yield To Intellects inebriate With Summer, or the World — Generic as a Quarry And hearty — as a Rose — Invited with Asperity But welcome... Poet: