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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536931" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Winter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536931" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:<br>The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark<br>Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,<br>Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.'<br>He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep<br>Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd, sheathèd<br>In ribbèd steel; I dare not lift mine eyes,<br>For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536931" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Lo! now the direful monster, whose 1000 skin clings<br>To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks:<br>He withers all in silence, and in his hand<br>Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536931" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He takes his seat upon the cliffs,--the mariner<br>Cries in vain. Poor little wretch, that deal'st<br>With storms!--till heaven smiles, and the monster<br>Is driv'n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=William+Blake">William Blake</a></strong></div>

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