  A tingling, misty marvel Blew hither in the night, And now the little peach-trees Are clasped in frozen light. Upon the apple-branches An icy film is caught, With trailing threads of gossamer In pearly patterns wrought. The autumn sun, in wonder, Is gayly peering through This silver-tissued network Across the frosty blue. The weather-vane is fire-tipped, The honeysuckle shows A dazzling icy splendor, And crystal is the rose. Around the eaves are fringes Of icicles that seem To mock the summer rainbows With many-colored gleam. Along the walk, the pebbles Are each a precious stone; The grass is tasseled hoarfrost, The clover jewel-sown. Such sparkle, sparkle, sparkle Fills all the frosty air, Oh, can it be that darkness Is ever anywhere! |
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