I[A3] tell my secret?[A4] No indeed, not I:
Perhaps someday, who knows?
But not today; it froze, and blows, and snows[A5] ,
And you're too curious: fie![A6]
You want to hear it? well:
Only, my[A7] secret's mine, and I won't tell.
Or, after all, perhaps there's none:
Suppose there is no secret after all,
But only just my fun.
Today's a nipping day, a biting day;
In which one wants a shawl,
A veil, a cloak[A8] , and other wraps:
I cannot [A9] ope to everyone who taps,
And let the draughts come whistling thro' my hall;
Come bounding and surrounding me,
Come buffeting, astounding me[A10] ,
Nipping and clipping thro' my wraps and all.
I wear my mask for warmth[A11] : who ever shows
His nose to Russian snows
To be pecked at by every wind that blows?
You would not peck? I thank you for good will,
Believe[A12] , but leave that truth untested still.
Spring's and expansive time: yet I don't trust
March with its peck of dust,
Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers,
Nor even May, whose flowers
One frost may wither thro' the sunless hours.
Perhaps someday, who knows?
But not today; it froze, and blows, and snows[A5] ,
And you're too curious: fie![A6]
You want to hear it? well:
Only, my[A7] secret's mine, and I won't tell.
Or, after all, perhaps there's none:
Suppose there is no secret after all,
But only just my fun.
Today's a nipping day, a biting day;
In which one wants a shawl,
A veil, a cloak[A8] , and other wraps:
I cannot [A9] ope to everyone who taps,
And let the draughts come whistling thro' my hall;
Come bounding and surrounding me,
Come buffeting, astounding me[A10] ,
Nipping and clipping thro' my wraps and all.
I wear my mask for warmth[A11] : who ever shows
His nose to Russian snows
To be pecked at by every wind that blows?
You would not peck? I thank you for good will,
Believe[A12] , but leave that truth untested still.
Spring's and expansive time: yet I don't trust
March with its peck of dust,
Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers,
Nor even May, whose flowers
One frost may wither thro' the sunless hours.
Perhaps[A13] some languid summer day,
When drowsy birds sing less and less,
And golden fruit is ripening to excess,
If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud,
[A14] And the warm wind is neither still nor loud,
Perhaps my secret I may say,
Or you may guess.
When drowsy birds sing less and less,
And golden fruit is ripening to excess,
If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud,
[A14] And the warm wind is neither still nor loud,
Perhaps my secret I may say,
Or you may guess.
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