Winter-time
by Robert Louis Stevenson

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,  A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;  Blinks but an hour or two; and then,  A blood-red orange, sets again.  Before the stars have left the skies,  At morning in the dark I rise;  And shivering in my nakedness,  By the cold candle, bathe and dress.  Close by the jolly fire I sit  To warm my frozen bones a bit;  Or with a reindeer-sled, explore  The colder countries round the door.  When to go out, my nurse doth wrap  Me in my comforter and cap;  The cold wind burns my face, and blows  Its frosty pepper up my nose.  Black are my steps on silver sod;  Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;  And tree and house, and hill and lake,  Are frosted like a wedding cake.