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William Wordsworth - Address To A Child During A Boisterous Winter By My Sister
Work rating: Medium

WHAT way does the wind come? What way does he go?
He rides over the water, and over the snow,
Through wood, and through vale; and, o`er rocky height
Which the goat cannot climb, takes his sounding flight;
He tosses about in every bare tree,
As, if you look up, you plainly may see;
But how he will come, and whither he goes,
There`s never a scholar in England knows.

He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook
And ring a sharp `larum;—but, if you should look,          
There`s nothing to see but a cushion of snow
Round as a pillow, and whiter than milk,
And softer than if it were covered with silk.
Sometimes he`ll hide in the cave of a rock,
Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard cock;
—Yet seek him,—and what shall you find in the place?
Nothing but silence and empty space;
Save, in a corner, a heap of dry leaves,
That he`s left, for a bed, to beggars or thieves!
As soon as `tis daylight to-morrow, with me                 
You shall go to the orchard, and then you will see
That he has been there, and made a great rout,
And cracked the branches, and strewn them about;
Heaven grant that he spare but that one upright twig
That looked up at the sky so proud and big
All last summer, as well you know,
Studded with apples, a beautiful show!

Hark! over the roof he makes a pause,
And growls as if he would fix his claws
Right in the slates, and with a huge rattle                 
Drive them down, like men in a battle:
—But let him range round; he does us no harm,
We build up the fire, we`re snug and warm;
Untouched by his breath see the candle shines bright,
And burns with a clear and steady light;
Books have we to read,—but that half-stifled knell,
Alas! `tis the sound of the eight o`clock bell.
—Come now we`ll to bed! and when we are there
He may work his own will, and what shall we care?
He may knock at the door,—we`ll not let him in;            
May drive at the windows,—we`ll laugh at his din;
Let him seek his own home wherever it be;
Here`s a `cozie` warm house for Edward and me.
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