“In rigorous hours…”


With a tip of the biretta to the Laudator….

Robert Louis Stevenson, Winter:

    In rigorous hours, when down the iron lane
    The redbreast looks in vain
    For hips and haws,
    Lo, shining flowers upon my window-pane
    The silver pencil of the winter draws.

    When all the snowy hill
    And the bare woods are still;
    When snipes are silent in the frozen bogs,
    And all the garden garth is whelmed in mire,
    Lo, by the hearth, the laughter of the logs –
    More fair than roses, lo, the flowers of fire!


About Fr. John Zuhlsdorf

Fr. Z is the guy who runs this blog. o{]:¬)
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  1. Andreas says:

    Dissolve frigus, ligna super foco large reponens, atque benignius deprome quadrimum Sabina … merum. (Hor. Carmen IX).

  2. BJ says:

    What lovely imagery!

  3. Tina in Ashburn says:

    nice Father, thanks. Poignant rhyme. I wish I was as good a photographer as you.

  4. Robert Louis Stevenson was an awesome poet.

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