  BY DELTA.I. The snow! the snow! 'tis a pleasant thing To watch it falling, falling Down upon earth with noiseless wing, As at some spirit's calling: Each flake seems a fairy parachute, From mystic cloudland blown, And earth is still, and air is mute, As frost's enchanted zone. II. The shrubs bend down—behold the trees Their fingery boughs stretch out The blossoms of the sky to seize, As they duck and drive about; The bare hills plead for a covering, And ere the grey twilight Around their shoulders broad shall cling An arctic cloak of white. III. With clapping hands, from drifted door Of lonely shieling, peeps The imp, to see thy mantle hoar O'erspread the craggy steeps. The eagle round its eyrie screams; The hill-fox seeks the glade; And foaming downwards rush the streams, As mad to be delay'd. IV. Falling white on the land it lies, And falling dark in the sea; The solan to its island flies, The crow to the thick larch-tree; Within the penthouse struts the cock, His draggled mates among; While black-eyed robin seems to mock The sadness with his song. V. Released from school, 'twas ours to wage, How keenly! bloodless war— Tossing the balls in mimic rage, That left a gorgeous scar; While doublets dark were powder'd o'er, Till darkness none could find; And valorous chiefs had wounds before, And caitiff churls behind. VI. Comrades, to work!—I see him yet, That piled-up giant grim, With Titan girth of limb. Snell Sir John Frost, with crystal spear, We hoped thou wouldst have screen'd him; But Thaw, the traitor, lurking near, Soon cruelly guillotined him! VII. The powdery snow! Alas! to me It speaks of far-off days, When a boyish skater mingling free Amid the merry maze. Methinks I see the broad ice still; And my nerves all jangling feel, Blent with the tones of voices shrill, The ring of the slider's heel. VIII. A scene of revelry! Soon night Drew his murky curtains round The world, while a star of lustre bright Peep'd from the blue profound. Yet what cared we for darkening lea, Or warning bell remote? With rush and cry we scudded by, And seized the bliss we sought. IX. Drift on, ye wild winds! leave no traces Of dim and danky earth: While eager faces fill their places Around the blazing hearth. Then let the stories of the glories Of our sires be told; Or tale of knight, who lady bright From thraldom saved of old. X. Or let the song the charms prolong, In music's haunting tone, Of shores where spring's aye blossoming, And winter is unknown; Where zephyrs, sick with scent of flowers, Along the lakelets play; And lovers, wand'ring through the bowers, Make life a holiday. XI. Sunset and snow! Lo, eve reveals Her starr'd map to the moon, And o'er hush'd earth a radiance steals More bland than that of noon: The fur-robed genii of the Pole Dance o'er our mountains white, Chain up the billows as they roll, And pearl the caves with light. XII. The moon above the eastern fells Holds on a silent way; Reflects her silver ray; The ivy-tod, beneath its load, Bends down with frosty curl; And all around seems sown the ground With diamond and with pearl. XIII. The groves are black, the hills are white, And, glittering in the sheen, The lake expands—a sheet of light— Its willowy banks between; From the dark sedge that skirts its edge, The startled wild-duck springs, While, echoing far up copse and scaur, The fowler's musket rings. XIV. From cove to cove how sweet to rove Around that fairy scene, Companion'd, as along we move, By things and thoughts serene;— Voiceless—except where, cranking, rings The skater's curve along, The demon of the ice, who sings His deep hoarse undersong. XV. In days of old, when spirits held The air, and the earth below, When o'er the green were, tripping, seen The fays—what wert thou, Snow? Leave eastern Greece its fabled fleece, For Northland has its own— The witches of Norway pluck their geese, And thou art their plumes of down. XVI. The snow! the snow! It brings to mind A thousand happy things, And but one sad one—'tis to find Too sure that Time hath wings! Oh, ever sweet is sight or sound That tells of long ago; And I gaze around, with thoughts profound, Upon the falling snow! |
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