An Old Man's Winter Night
By Robert Frost
All out of doors looked darkly in at him
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.
What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze
Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.
What kept him from remembering what it was
That brought him to that creaking room was age.
He stood with barrels round him -- at a loss.
And having scared the cellar under him
In clomping there, he scared it once again
In clomping off; -- and scared the outer night,
Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar
Of trees and crack of branches, common things,
But nothing so like beating on a box.
A light he was to no one but himself
Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,
A quiet light, and then not even that.
He consigned to the moon, such as she was,
So late-arising, to the broken moon
As better than the sun in any case
For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
His icicles along the wall to keep;
And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt
Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,
And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.
One aged man -- one man -- can't keep a house,
A farm, a countryside, or if he can,
It's thus he does it of a winter night.
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Gacked from
You are 'Deck the Halls'! Let's be honest, it
isn't Christmas you are celebrating, is it? In
fact, you know full well that there were no
shepherds in the fields in December, and that
the date of Christmas was put at midwinter
specifically to coincide with the older
celebrations of Yule and the birth of Mithras.
An unashamed Pagan, you take great glee in the
number of carols referring to holly, evergreens
and Winter's end, and will sing them with
gusto. You know where they really came from.
And you do enjoy the seasonal celebrations,
regardless of their name... A merry Yule to you!
What Christmas Carol are you?
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So I screwed up and totally missed
Today
I'm getting there. I don't suck, but I've got a ways to go.
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