Winter
When icicles hang by the wall
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail
And Tom bears logs into the hall
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;
Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow
And coughing drowns the parson's saw
And birds sit brooding in the snow
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;
Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Commentary
From “Love’s Labours Lost”, Act V, Scene ii.
The weather has suddenly taken a turn for the colder here in Tokyo; also,
just yesterday I was watching the Elizabethan series of Blackadder1. The combination made the choice of today’s poem irresistible…
— Thomas
– http://home.clara.net/paulm/blackadder.html
http://www.xmission.com/~tchansen/blackadder/bl-scripts.htm
-
“For many people under 35, their most vivid glimpses of Britain’s illustrious history have been through the Blackadder chronicles which brightened television screens from 1983 to 1989. Their constantly reborn protagonist, Edmund Blackadder, flounced through a bloody Middle Ages, a campy Elizabethan court, even camper Regency revels, and the rat-infested trenches of the Great War, armed with only his repulsive servant Baldrick, and a fine line in complex insults [2].” ↩
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From the Wondering Minstrels mailing list, 1999–2008.
OA.Devonport · 24 May 2006
Winter
So evocative ; a remembered childhood in a cold postwar England.Warming frozen fingers on a schoolroom radiator only to cry again when feeling returned to announce the burning sensations in six year old fingers….And to experience the mind numbing cruelty of Victorian outdoor open roofed schoolyard toilets,designed to provide only briefest fleeting relief to the desperate child. How this poem brings back the chilling memories of a cold childhood.and yet a certain nostalgia for a world now gone. How can that be ?
The fear of going to school and of the confusion of not really understanding what was going on or required of me ,being punished and thinking “I must be stupid”..only to discover later in my life that I have a hearing problem. Being out in the cold ….Winter.
K NZ
Sara Huntley · 9 December 2007
My favorite Shakespeare poem-makes you feel the cold.