Sonnet to Winter by Emily Chubbuck JudsonThy brow is girt, thy robe with gems inwove;And palaces of frost-work, on the eye,Flash out, and gleam in every gorgeous dye,The pencil, dipped in glorious things above,Can bring to earth. Oh, thou art passing fair!But cold and cheerless as the heart of death,Without one warm, free pulse, one softening breath,One soothing whisper for the ear of Care.Fortune too has her Winter. In the Spring,We watch the bud of promise; and the flowerLooks out upon us at the Summer hour;And Autumn days the blessed harvest bring;Then comes the reign of jewels rare, and gold,When brows flash light, but hearts grow strangely cold.-----Prosodia is a daily podcast dedicated to historical notes and poems, hosted by Karim El Azhari. Welcome!All show notes are heavily recycled from old The Writer's Almanac archives. May that podcast rest in peace (it was Karim's favorite).All poems are public domain or submitted by the author for use on the show.Intro and outro music by Chillhop Records. They are amazing!