There's snow on the fields,
And cold in the cottage,
While I sit in the chimney nook
Supping hot pottage.
My clothes are soft and warm,
Fold upon fold,
But I'm so sorry for the poor
Out in the cold.
Share this Poem:
Quotes of the Day
A mind without instruction can no more bear fruit than can a field, however fertile, without cultivation.
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A under the snow in the dark and the cold,
pale little sprout was humming;
Sweetly it sang, 'neath the frozen mold,
Of the beautiful days that were coming.