Dame Edith Sitwell

Here you will find the Poem When Cold December of poet Dame Edith Sitwell

When Cold December

WHEN cold December 
Froze to grisamber 
The jangling bells on the sweet rose-trees-- 
Then fading slow 
And furred is the snow 
As the almond's sweet husk-- 
And smelling like musk. 
The snow amygdaline 
Under the eglantine 
Where the bristling stars shine 
Like a gilt porcupine-- 
The snow confesses 
The little Princesses 
On their small chioppines 
Dance under the orpines. 
See the casuistries 
Of their slant fluttering eyes-- 
Gilt as the zodiac 
(Dancing Herodiac). 
Only the snow slides 
Like gilded myrrh-- 
From the rose-branches--hides 
Rose-roots that stir.