UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 WINTER POEMS 
 
 FAVORITE AMERICAN POETS 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO. 
 
 187 i 
 
 146125
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, 
 
 BY FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO., 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
 
 P.: 
 
 In "WINTER POEMS" the Publishers offer a Holiday 
 book having special appropriateness to the season. The 
 first poem, " THE PAGEANT," was written expressly for 
 this volume. The other poems combine the elements of 
 wide popularity, seasonableness, and fitness for illustra- 
 tion. It is believed that the variety and beauty of the 
 designs, and the excellence of the engraving and printing, 
 will commend the volume to the highest favor of the 
 public.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 THE PAGEANT 
 
 THE GOLDEN MILE-STONE . . . 
 
 A WINTER PIECE 
 
 THE FIRST SNOW-FALL .... 
 
 IN SCHOOL-DAYS 
 
 THE SNOW-SHOWER ..... 
 
 WOODS IN WINTER 
 
 THE SNOW-STORM ....... 
 
 PA< 
 
 John Greenleaf Whittier . . 13 
 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 2 1 
 
 William Cullen Bryant , . 25 
 
 James Russell Lowell . . . 33 
 
 John Greenleaf Whittier . . 37 
 
 William Cnllen Bryant . . 41 
 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfell(no 45 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson . . 48 
 
 MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 5 1
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 [The Engravings by A. V. S. ANTHONY, under whose supervision the book is prepared.] 
 
 THE PAGEANT. ARTIST . PAGE 
 " A sound as if from bells of silver 
 
 Through the frost-pictured panes I hear." . HARRY FENN .... 13 
 
 "Virgin snow-paths glimmering through 
 
 A jewelled elm-tree avenue." " " .... 14 
 
 " How yonder Ethiopian hemlock 
 
 Crowned with his glistening circlet stands." " " . . . . 16 
 
 The Waterfall " " .... 17 
 
 "The rabbit lightly leaping." " " . . . . 18 
 
 " Cattle-tramp in crispy snow." " " . . . . 18 
 
 " Prophecy of summer days." " " .... 20 
 
 THE GOLDEN MILE-STONE. 
 
 " Smoky columns 
 Tower aloft into the air of amber." . . . WINSLOW HOMER . . 21
 
 List of Illustrations. 
 
 " Seeing ruined cities in the ashes." .... WINSLOW HOMER . . 22 
 
 " By the fireside there are youthful dreamers." " . . 22 
 
 "By the fireside tragedies are acted." ... " . . 23 
 
 " By the fireside there are peace and comfort." " . . 23 
 
 " On the hearth the lighted logs are glowing." " " . . 24 
 
 A WINTER PIECE. 
 
 "Bright mosses crept 
 Over the spotted trunks." C. C. GRISWOLD ... 25 
 
 " The bleak November winds." " " ... 26 
 
 "The snow-bird twittered on the beechen bough." " " . . 27 
 
 " And 'neath the hemlock .... 
 
 The partridge found a shelter. Through the snow 
 
 The rabbit sprang away." " ... 28 
 
 "The slant sun of February." " " ... 29 
 
 "The firm drift 
 In the deep .glen." " " ... 31 
 
 "The little wind-flower." . . " " . ? 2 
 
 THE FIRST SNOW-FALL. 
 
 The Snow-Spirit \V. J. HENNESSY ... 33 
 
 " I stood and watched by the window." . . " ... 34 
 
 "With eyes that saw not, I kissed her." . . " < ... 36
 
 List of Illustrations. 
 
 IX 
 
 IN SCHOOL-DAYS. 
 
 " The school-house by the road." S. EYTINGE, JR. ... 37 
 
 "For near her stood the little boy." .... " " . . . 39 
 
 "The grasses on Her grave." " " ... 40 
 
 THE SNOW-SHOWER. 
 
 "Stand here by my side and turn, I pray, 
 
 On the lake below thy gentle eyes." . . W. J. HENNESSY ... 41 
 
 " I see in thy gentle eyes a tear." . . . . " ... 43 
 
 The Silent Lake HOMER D. MARTIN . . 44 
 
 WOODS IN WINTER. 
 
 " With solemn feet I tread the hill." . , 
 
 " The embracing sunbeams chastely play 
 And gladden these deep solitudes." 
 
 "The crystal icicle is hung." .... 
 "And the song ceased not with the day." 
 
 "And gathering winds, in hoarse accord, 
 Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud." . 
 
 "I hear it in the opening year." . . . 
 
 . HARRY FENN 
 
 THE SNOW-STORM. 
 
 " Announced by all the trumpets of the sky 
 Arrives the snow." 
 
 JERVIS MCENTEE 
 
 "The north-wind's masonry." 
 
 " The frolic architecture of the snow." .
 
 List of Illustrations. 
 
 MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR. 
 
 " Death, with frosty hand and cold, 
 
 Plucks the old man by the beard." . . 
 
 " The foolish, fond Old Year." 
 
 "Then, too, the Old Year dieth 
 And the forests utter a moan." .... 
 
 "There shall come a mightier blast, 
 
 There shall be a darker day." . . . 
 
 ALFRED FREDERICKS 
 
 54 
 
 55 
 
 [The Vignettes and Ornaments in the introductory pages are drawn by JOHN J. HARLEV.]
 
 THE PAGEANT. 
 
 A 
 
 SOUND as if from bells of silver, 
 Or elfin cymbals smitten clear, 
 Through the frost-pictured panes I hear. 
 
 A brightness which outshines the morning, 
 A splendor brooking no delay, 
 Beckons and tempts my feet away. 
 
 I leave the trodden village highway 
 
 For virgin snow-paths glimmering through 
 A jewelled elm-tree avenue ;
 
 The Pageant. 
 
 Where, keen against the walls of sapphire, 
 The gleaming tree-bolls, ice-embossed, 
 Hold up their chandeliers of frost. 
 
 I tread in Orient halls enchanted, 
 
 I dream the Saga's dream of caves 
 Gem-lit beneath the North Sea waves !
 
 The Pageant. 15 
 
 I walk the land of Eldorado, 
 
 I touch its mimic garden bowers, 
 
 Its silver leaves and diamond flowers ! 
 
 The flora of the mystic mine-world 
 Around me lifts on crystal stems 
 The petals of its clustered gems ! 
 
 What miracle of weird transforming 
 
 Is this wild work of frost and light, 
 This glimpse of glory infinite ! 
 
 This foregleam of the Holy City 
 
 Like that to him of Patmos given, 
 
 The white bride coming down from heaven ! 
 
 How flash the ranked and mail-clad alders, 
 
 Through what sharp-glancing spears of reeds 
 The brook its muffled water leads ! 
 
 Yon maple, like the bush of Horeb, 
 
 Burns unconsumed : a white, cold fire 
 Rays out from every grassy spire.
 
 The Pageant. 
 
 Each slender rush and spike of mullein, 
 Low laurel shrub and drooping fern, 
 Transfigured, blaze where'er I turn. 
 
 How yonder Ethiopian hemlock 
 
 Crowned with his glistening circlet stands ! 
 What jewels light his swarthy hands ! 
 
 Here, where the forest opens southward, 
 Between its hospitable pines, 
 As through a door, the warm sun shines. 
 
 The jewels loosen on the branches, 
 
 And lightly, as the soft winds blow, 
 Fall, tinkling, on the ice below.
 
 The Pageant. 
 
 And through the clashing of their cymbals 
 I hear the old familiar fall 
 Of water down the rocky wall, 
 
 V<x \\V 
 Where, from its wintry prison breaking, 
 
 In dark and silence hidden long, 
 The brook repeats its summer song. 
 
 One instant flashing in the sunshine, 
 Keen as a sabre from its sheath, 
 Then lost again the ice beneath.
 
 i8 
 
 The Pageant. 
 
 I hear the rabbit lightly leaping, 
 
 The foolish screaming of the jay, ''* 
 The chopper's axe-stroke far away ; 
 
 The clamor of some neighboring barn-yard 
 The lazy cock's belated crow, 
 Or cattle-tramp in crispy snow.
 
 The Pageant. 19 
 
 And, as in some enchanted forest 
 
 The lost knight hears his comrades sing, 
 And, near at hand, their bridles ring, 
 
 So welcome I these sounds and voices, 
 These airs from far-off summer blown, 
 This life that leaves me not alone. 
 
 For the white glory overawes me ; 
 The crystal terror of the seer 
 Of Chebar's vision blinds me here. 
 
 Rebuke me not, O sapphire heaven ! 
 
 Thou stainless earth, lay not on me 
 This keen reproach of purity ! 
 
 Let the strange frost-work sink and crumble, 
 And let the loosened tree-boughs swing, 
 Till all their bells of silver ring. 
 
 Shine warmly down, thou sun of noontime, 
 On this chill pageant, melt and move 
 The winter's frozen heart with love.
 
 2o The Pageant. 
 
 And, soft and low, thou wind south-blowing, 
 Breathe through a veil of tenderest haze 
 Thy prophecy of summer days. 
 
 Come with thy green relief of promise, 
 And to this dead, cold splendor bring 
 The living jewels of the spring !
 
 .EAFLESS are the trees; their purple 
 
 branches 
 Spread themselves abroad, like reefs of coral, 
 
 Rising silent 
 In the Red Sea of the winter sunset. 
 
 From the hundred chimneys of the village, 
 Like the Afreet in the Arabian story, 
 
 Smoky columns 
 Tower aloft into the air of amber. 
 
 At the window winks the flickering firelight ; 
 Here and there the lamps of evening glimmer, 
 
 Social watch-fires 
 Answering one another through the darkness. 
 
 On the hearth the lighted logs are glowing, 
 And like Ariel in the cloven pine-tree 
 
 For its freedom 
 Groans and sighs the air imprisoned in them.
 
 22 
 
 The Golden Mile-stone. 
 
 By the fireside there are old men seated, 
 Seeing ruined cities in the ashes, 
 
 Asking sadly 
 Of the Past what it can ne'er restore them. 
 
 By the fireside there are youthful dreamers, 
 Building castles fair, with stately stairways, 
 
 Asking blindly 
 Of the Future what it cannot give them.
 
 The Golden Mile-stone. 
 
 2 3 
 
 By the fireside tragedies are acted 
 
 In whose scenes appear two actors only, 
 
 Wife and husband, 
 And above them God the sole spectator. 
 
 By the fireside there are peace and comfort, 
 Wives and children, with fair, thoughtful faces, 
 
 Waiting, watching, 
 For a well-known footstep in the passage.
 
 24 The Golden Mile- stone. 
 
 Each man's chimney is his Golden Mile-stone ; 
 Is the central point, from which he measures 
 
 Every distance 
 Through the gateways of the world around him. 
 
 In his farthest wanderings still he sees it ; 
 
 Hears the talking flame, the answering night-wind, 
 
 As he heard them 
 When he sat with those who were, but are not 
 
 Happy he whom neither wealth nor fashion, 
 Nor the march of the encroaching city, 
 
 Drives an exile 
 From the hearth of his ancestral homestead. 
 
 We may build more splendid habitations, 
 
 Fill our -rooms with paintings and with sculptures, 
 
 But we cannot 
 Buy with gold the old associations!
 
 A WINTER PIECE. 
 
 r I "'HE time has been that these wild solitudes, 
 
 Yet beautiful as wild, were trod by me 
 Oftener than now ; and when the ills of life 
 Had chafed my spirit when the unsteady pulse 
 Beat with strange flutterings I would wander forth 
 And seek the woods. The sunshine on my path 
 Was to me as a friend. The swelling hills, 
 The quiet dells retiring far between, 
 With gentle invitation to explore 
 Their windings, were a calm society 
 That talked with me and soothed me. Then the chant 
 Of birds, and chime of brooks, and soft caress 
 Of the fresh sylvan air, made me forget 
 The thoughts that broke my peace, and I began 
 To gather simples by the fountain's brink, 
 And lose myself in day-dreams. While I stood 
 In Nature's loneliness, I was with one 
 With whom I early grew familiar, one
 
 2 6 A Winter Piece. 
 
 Who never had a frown for me, whose voice 
 Never rebuked me for the hours I stole 
 From cares I loved not, but of which the World 
 Deems highest, to converse with her. When shrieked 
 
 The bleak November winds, and smote the woods, 
 
 And the brown fields were herbless, and the shades 
 
 That met above the merry rivulet 
 
 Were spoiled, I sought, I loved them still ; they seemed 
 
 Like old companions in adversity. 
 
 Still there was beauty in my walks ; the brook, 
 
 Bordered with sparkling frost-work, was as gay
 
 A Winter Piece. 
 
 As with its fringe of summer flowers. Afar, 
 The village with its spires, the path of streams 
 And dim receding valleys, hid before 
 By interposing trees, lay visible 
 Through the bare grove, and my familiar haunts 
 Seemed new to me. Nor was I slow to come 
 Among them, when the clouds from their still skirts 
 Had shaken down on earth the feathery snow, 
 And all was white. The pure keen air abroad, 
 Albeit it breathed no scent of herb, nor heard 
 Love-call of bird nor merry hum of bee, 
 Was not the air of death. Bright mosses crept 
 Over the spotted trunks, and the close buds, 
 That lay along the boughs, instinct with life, 
 Patient, and waiting the soft breath of Spring, 
 Feared not the piercing spirit of the North. 
 The snow-bird twittered on the beechen bough,
 
 28 
 
 A Winter Piece. 
 
 And 'neath the hemlock, whose 
 
 thick branches bent 
 Beneath its bright cold burden, and 
 
 kept dry 
 A circle, on the earth, of withered 
 
 leaves, 
 The partridge found a shelter. 
 
 Through the snow 
 The rabbit sprang away. The 
 
 lighter track 
 Of fox, and the raccoon's broad 
 
 path, were there, 
 Crossing each other. From his 
 
 hollow tree 
 The squirrel was abroad, gathering 
 
 the nuts 
 Just fallen, that. asked the winter 
 
 cold and sway 
 
 Of winter blast to 
 shake them from 
 their hold.
 
 A. Winter Piece. 29 
 
 But winter has yet brighter scenes, he boasts 
 Splendors beyond what gorgeous Summer knows ; 
 Or Autumn with his many fruits, and woods 
 All flushed with many hues. Come when the rains 
 Have glazed the snow, and clothed the trees with ice, 
 While the slant sun of February pours 
 Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach ! 
 The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps, 
 And the broad arching portals of the grove 
 Welcome thy entering. Look ! the massy trunks 
 
 Are cased in the pure crystal ; each light spray, 
 Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven, 
 Is studded with its trembling water-drops, 
 That glimmer with an amethystine light. 
 But round the parent stem the long low boughs 
 Bend, in a glittering ring, and arbors hide
 
 30 A Winter Piece. 
 
 The glassy floor. Oh ! you might deem the spot 
 
 The spacious cavern of some virgin mine, 
 
 Deep in the womb of earth, where the gems grow, 
 
 And diamonds put forth radiant rods and bud 
 
 With amethyst and topaz, and the place 
 
 Lit up, most royally, with the pure beam 
 
 That dwells in them. Or haply the vast hall 
 
 Of fairy palace, that outlasts the night, 
 
 And fades not in the glory of the sun; 
 
 Where crystal columns send forth slender shafts 
 
 And crossing arches ; and fantastic aisles 
 
 Wind from the sight in brightness, and are lost 
 
 Among the crowded pillars. Raise thine eye ; 
 
 Thou seest no cavern roof, no palace vault ; 
 
 There the blue sky and the white drifting cloud 
 
 Look in. Again the wildered fancy dreams 
 
 Of spouting fountains, frozen as they rose, 
 
 And fixed, with all their branching jets, in air, 
 
 And all their sluices sealed. All, all is light ; 
 
 Light without shade. But all shall pass away 
 
 With the next sun. From numberless vast trunks 
 
 Loosened, the crashing ice shall make a sound 
 
 Like the far roar of rivers, and the eve 
 
 Shall close o'er the brown woods as it was wont. 
 
 And it is pleasant, when the noisy streams 
 Are just set free, and milder suns melt off
 
 A Winter Piece. 
 
 The plashy snow, save only the firm drift 
 
 In the deep glen or the close shade of pines, 
 
 'T is pleasant to behold the wreaths of smoke 
 
 Roll up among the maples of the hill, 
 
 Where the shrill sound of youthful voices wakes 
 
 The shriller echo, as the clear pure lymph, 
 
 That from the wounded trees, in twinkling drops
 
 A Winter Piece. 
 
 Falls, mid the golden brightness of the morn, 
 Is gathered in with brimming pails, and oft, 
 Wielded by sturdy hands, the stroke of axe. 
 Makes the woods ring. Along the quiet air 
 Come and float calmly off the soft light clouds, 
 Such as you see in summer, and the winds 
 Scarce stir the branches. Lodged in sunny cleft, 
 Where the cold breezes come not, blooms alone 
 The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye 
 Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at, 
 Startling the loiterer in the naked groves 
 With unexpected beauty, for the time 
 Of blossoms and green leaves is yet afar. 
 And ere it comes, the encountering winds shall oft 
 Muster their wrath again, and rapid clouds 
 Shade heaven, and bounding on the frozen earth 
 Shall fall their volleyed stores, rounded like hail 
 And white like snow, and the loud North again 
 Shall buffet the vexed forest in his rage.
 
 THE FIRST SNOW-FALL. 
 
 r I ^HE snow had begun in the gloaming, 
 
 And busily all the night 
 Had been heaping field and highway 
 With a silence deep and white. 
 
 Every pine and fir and hemlock 
 Wore ermine too dear for an earl, 
 
 And the poorest twig on the elm-tree 
 Was ridged inch deep with pearl. 
 
 From sheds new-roofed with Carrara 
 Came Chanticleer's muffled crow, 
 
 The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down, 
 And still fluttered down the snow.
 
 34 
 
 The First Snow-Fall. 
 
 I stood and watched by the window 
 The noiseless work of the sky, 
 
 And the sudden flurries of snow-birds, 
 Like brown leaves whirling by.
 
 The First Snow-Fall. 35 
 
 I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn 
 
 Where a little headstone stood ; 
 How the flakes were folding it gently, 
 
 As did robins the babes in the wood. 
 
 Up spoke our own little Mabel, 
 
 Saying, " Father, who makes it snow ? " 
 
 And I told of the good All-Father 
 Who cares for us here below. 
 
 Again I looked at the snow-fall, 
 And thought of the leaden sky 
 
 That arched o'er our first great sorrow, 
 When that mound was heaped so high. 
 
 I remembered the gradual patience 
 That fell from that cloud like snow, 
 
 Flake by flake, healing and hiding 
 The scar of our deep-plunged woe. 
 
 And again to the child I whispered, 
 " The snow that husheth all, 
 
 Darling, the merciful Father 
 Alone can make it fall ! "
 
 36 The First Snow-Fall. 
 
 Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her 
 And she, kissing back, could not know 
 
 That my kiss was given to her sister, 
 Folded close under deepening snow.
 
 IN SCHOOL-DAYS. 
 
 OTILL sits the school-house by the road, 
 
 A ragged beggar sunning ; 
 Around it still the sumachs grow, 
 And blackberry-vines are running. 
 
 Within, the master's desk is seen, 
 
 Deep scarred by raps official ; 
 The warping floor, the battered seats, 
 
 The jack-knife's carved initial ; 
 
 The charcoal frescos on its wall ; 
 
 Its door's worn sill, betraying 
 The feet that, creeping slow to school, 
 
 Went storming out to playing ! 
 
 146125
 
 38 In School-Days. 
 
 It touched the tangled golden curls, 
 And brown eyes full of grieving, 
 
 Of one who still her steps delayed 
 When all the school were leaving. 
 
 For near her stood the little boy 
 
 Her childish favor singled ; 
 His cap pulled low upon a face 
 
 Where pride and shame were mingled. 
 
 Pushing with restless feet the snow ; 
 
 To right and left, he lingered ; 
 As restlessly her tiny hands 
 
 The blue-checked apron fingered. 
 
 He saw her lift her eyes ; he felt 
 The soft hand's light caressing, 
 
 And heard the tremble of her voice, 
 As if a fault confessing. 
 
 " I 'm sorry that I spelt the word : 
 
 I hate to go above you, 
 Because," the brown eyes lower fell, 
 
 " Because, you see, I love you ! "
 
 In School-Days. 
 
 Long years ago a winter sun 
 Shone over it at setting ; 
 
 Lit up its western window-panes, 
 And low eaves' icy fretting. 
 
 39
 
 4O In School-Days. 
 
 Still memory to a gray-haired man 
 That sweet child-face is showing, 
 
 Dear girl ! the grasses on her grave 
 Have forty years been growing ! 
 
 He lives to learn, in life's hard school, 
 How few who pass above him 
 
 Lament their triumph and his loss, 
 Like her, because they love him.
 
 THE SNOW-SHOWER. 
 
 OTAND here by my side and turn, I pray, 
 
 On the lake below thy gentle eyes ; 
 The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray, 
 
 And dark and silent the water lies ; 
 And out of that frozen mist the snow 
 In wavering flakes begins to flow ; 
 
 Flake after flake 
 They sink in the dark and silent lake.
 
 A 2 The Snow-Shower. 
 
 See how in a living swarm they come 
 
 From the chambers beyond that misty veil ; 
 
 Some hover awhile in air, and some 
 
 Rush prone from the sky like summer hail. 
 
 All, dropping swiftly or settling slow, 
 
 Meet, and are still in the depths below ; 
 Flake after flake 
 
 Dissolved in the dark and silent lake. 
 
 Here delicate snow-stars, out of the cloud, 
 Come floating downward in airy play, 
 
 Like spangles dropped from the glistening crowd 
 That whiten by night the milky-way ; 
 
 There broader and burlier masses fall ; 
 
 The sullen water buries them all 
 
 Flake after flake 
 
 All drowned in the dark and silent lake. 
 
 And some, as on tender wings they glide 
 From their chilly birth-cloud, dim and gray, 
 
 Are joined in their fall, and, side by side, 
 Come clinging along their unsteady way ; 
 
 As friend with friend, or husband with wife 
 
 Makes hand in hand the passage of life ; 
 Each mated flake 
 
 Soon sinks in the dark and silent lake.
 
 The Snow-Shower. 
 
 43 
 
 Lo ! while we are gazing, in swifter haste 
 Stream down the snows, till the air is white, 
 
 As, myriads by myriads madly chased, 
 
 They fling themselves from their shadowy height, 
 
 The fair, frail creatures of middle sky, 
 
 What speed they make, with their grave so nigh ; 
 Flake after flake, 
 
 To lie in the dark and silent lake !
 
 44 
 
 The Snow-Shower. 
 
 I see in thy gentle eyes a tear ; 
 
 They turn to me in sorrowful thought : 
 Thou thinkest of friends, the good and dear, 
 
 Who were for a time, and now are not ; 
 Like these fair children of cloud and frost, 
 That glisten a moment and then are lost, 
 
 Flake after flake, 
 All lost in the dark and silent lake. 
 
 Yet look again, for the clouds divide ; 
 
 A gleam of blue on the water lies ; 
 And far away, on the mountain-side, 
 
 A sunbeam falls from the opening skies. 
 But the hurrying host that flew between 
 The cloud and the water no more is seen ; 
 
 Flake after flake, 
 At rest in the dark and silent lake.
 
 WOODS IN WINTER. 
 
 T T 7 HEN winter winds are piercing chill, 
 
 And through the hawthorne blows the gale, 
 With solemn feet I tread the hill, 
 That overbrows the lonely vale. 
 
 O'er the bare upland, and away 
 
 Through the long reach of desert woods, 
 The embracing sunbeams chastely play, 
 
 And gladden these deep solitudes.
 
 4 6 
 
 Woods in Winter. 
 
 Where, twisted round the barren oak, 
 The summer vine in beauty clung, 
 
 And summer winds the stillness broke, 
 The crystal icicle is hung. 
 
 Where, from their frozen urns, mute springs 
 Pour out the river's gradual tide, 
 
 Shrilly the skater's iron rings, 
 
 And voices fill the woodland side. 
 
 Alas ! how changed from the fair scene, 
 When birds sang out their mellow lay, 
 
 And winds were soft, and woods were green, 
 And the song ceased not with the day !
 
 Woods in Winter. 
 
 But still wild music is abroad, 
 
 Pale, desert woods ! within your crowd; 
 And gathering winds, in hoarse accord, 
 
 Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud. 
 
 47 
 
 Chill airs and wintry winds ! my ear 
 Has grown familiar with your song ; 
 
 I hear it in the opening year, 
 I listen, and it cheers me long.
 
 THE SNOW-STORM. 
 
 A NNOUNCED by all the trumpets of the sky, 
 Arrives the snow> and, driving o'er the fields, 
 Seems nowhere to alight : the whited air 
 Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, 
 And veils the farm-house at the garden's end. 
 The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet 
 Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit 
 Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed 
 In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
 
 The Snow-Storm. 
 
 49 
 
 Come see the north-wind's masonry 
 Out of an unseen quarry evermore 
 Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer 
 Curves his white bastions with projected roof 
 Round every windward stake, or tree, or door 
 Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work 
 So fanciful, so savage, naught cares he 
 
 For number or proportion. 
 
 Mockingly, 
 On coop or kennel he hangs 
 
 Parian wreaths ; -^ a** 
 
 A swan-like form invests the hidden 
 
 thorn ;
 
 The Snow-Storm. 
 
 Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall, 
 Maugre the farmer's sighs ; and, at the gate, 
 A tapering turret overtops the work. 
 And when his hours are numbered, and the world 
 Is all his own, retiring, as he were not, 
 Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art 
 To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, 
 Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, 
 The frolic architecture of the snow. 

 
 MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR. 
 
 "\7"ES, the Year is growing old, 
 
 And his eye is pale and bleared ! 
 Death, with frosty hand and cold, 
 Plucks the old man by the beard, 
 Sorely, sorely! 
 
 The leaves are falling, falling, 
 
 Solemnly and slow ; 
 Caw ! caw ! the rooks are calling, 
 
 It is a sound of woe, 
 A sound of woe ! 
 
 Through woods and mountain passes 
 The winds, like anthems, roll ; 
 
 They are chanting solemn masses, 
 Singing, "Pray for this poor soul, 
 Pray, pray ! "
 
 5 2 Midnight Mass for the Dying Year. 
 
 And the hooded clouds, like friars, 
 Tell their beads in drops of rain, 
 
 And patter their doleful prayers ; 
 But their prayers are all in vain, 
 All in vain !
 
 Midnight Mass for the Dying Year. 53 
 
 There he stands in the foul weather, 
 
 The foolish, fond Old Year, 
 Crowned with wild-flowers and with heather, 
 
 Like weak, despised Lear, 
 A king, a king ! 
 
 Then comes the summer-like day, 
 
 Bids the old man rejoice ! 
 His joy ! his last ! O, the old man gray, 
 
 Loveth that ever-soft voice, 
 Gentle and low. 
 
 To the crimson woods he saith, 
 To the voice gentle and low 
 
 Of the soft air, like a daughter's breath, 
 " Pray do not mock me so ! 
 Do not laugh at me ! " 
 
 And now the sweet day is dead : 
 Cold in his arms it lies ; 
 
 No stain from its breath is spread 
 Over the glassy skies, 
 No mist or stain !
 
 54 
 
 Midnight Mass for the Dying Year. 
 
 Then, too, the Old Year dieth, 
 And the forests utter a moan, 
 
 Like the voice of one who crieth 
 In the wilderness alone, 
 " Vex not his ghost ! "
 
 Midnight Mass for the Dying Year. 
 
 Then comes, with an awful roar, 
 Gathering and sounding on, 
 
 The storm-wind from Labrador, 
 The wind Euroclydon, 
 The storm-wind ! 
 
 55 
 
 Howl ! howl ! and from the forest 
 Sweep the red leaves away ! 
 
 Would the sins that thou abhorrest, 
 O Soul ! could thus decay, 
 And be swept away ! 
 
 For there shall come a mightier blast, 
 
 There shall be a darker day : 
 And the stars, from heaven down-cast, 
 Like red leaves be swept away ! 
 Kyrie eleyson ! 
 Christe, eleyson !
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 
 
 OCT 2 o 193V 
 
 JAN 
 
 2 1934 
 
 DEC 2 9 
 
 LOAN 
 
 
 
 NOV10 
 
 .M. 
 
 P.M. 
 
 .ovo 
 
 IV 
 
 JUH 20 
 
 'JUN 1 8 
 
 
 
 Form L-9-35m-8,'28