{"id":41,"date":"2008-12-21T16:40:39","date_gmt":"2008-12-21T20:40:39","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/?p=41"},"modified":"2026-10-13T13:36:22","modified_gmt":"2026-10-13T17:36:22","slug":"snow-in-the-suburbs-thomas-hardy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/?p=41","title":{"rendered":"Snow in the Suburbs &#8211; Thomas Hardy"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-41-1\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/audio\/snowsuburbs.mp3?_=1\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/audio\/snowsuburbs.mp3\">https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/audio\/snowsuburbs.mp3<\/a><\/audio><br \/>\n<span style=\"font-size: xx-small;\">read by C. Day Lewis, <em>Anthology of 20th Century English Poetry<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<p>Every branch big with it,<br \/>\nBent every twig with it;<br \/>\nEvery fork like a white web-foot;<br \/>\nEvery street and pavement mute:<br \/>\nSome flakes have lost their way, and grope back upward, when<br \/>\nMeeting those meandering down they turn and descend again.<br \/>\nThe palings are glued together like a wall,<br \/>\nAnd there is no waft of wind with the fleecy fall.<\/p>\n<p>A sparrow enters the tree,<br \/>\nWhereon immediately<br \/>\nA snow-lump thrice his own slight size<br \/>\nDescends on him and showers his head and eyes,<br \/>\nAnd overturns him,<br \/>\nAnd near inurns him,<br \/>\nAnd lights on a nether twig, when its brush<br \/>\nStarts off a volley of other lodging lumps with a rush.<\/p>\n<p>The steps are a blanched slope,<br \/>\nUp which, with feeble hope,<br \/>\nA black cat comes, wide-eyed and thin;<br \/>\nAnd we take him in.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>read by C. Day Lewis, Anthology of 20th Century English Poetry Every branch big with it, Bent every twig with it; Every fork like a white web-foot; Every street and pavement mute: Some flakes have lost their way, and grope back upward, when Meeting those meandering down they turn and descend again. The palings are [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9,36],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-41","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-audio","category-inurns-it"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=41"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":609,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41\/revisions\/609"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=41"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=41"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/poem.oftheweek.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=41"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}