 | The poetical works of Edmund Clarence Stedman |  |
56
THE SLEIGH-RIDE.
Hark! the jingle
Of the sleigh-bells' song!
Earth and air in snowy sheen commingle;
Swiftly throng
Norseland fancies, as we sail along.
Of the sleigh-bells' song!
Earth and air in snowy sheen commingle;
Swiftly throng
Norseland fancies, as we sail along.
Like the maiden
Of some fairy-tale,
Lying, spell-bound, in her diamond-laden
Bridal veil,
Sleeps the Earth beneath a garment pale.
Of some fairy-tale,
Lying, spell-bound, in her diamond-laden
Bridal veil,
Sleeps the Earth beneath a garment pale.
57
High above us
Gleams the ancient moon,
Gleam the eyes of shining ones that love us:
Could their tune
Only fill our ears at heaven's noon,
Gleams the ancient moon,
Gleam the eyes of shining ones that love us:
Could their tune
Only fill our ears at heaven's noon,
You and I, love,
With a wild delight,
Hearing that seraphic strain would die, love,
This same night,
Straight to join them in their starry height!
With a wild delight,
Hearing that seraphic strain would die, love,
This same night,
Straight to join them in their starry height!
Closer nestle,
Dearest, to my side.
What enchantment, in our magic vessel
Thus to glide,
Making music, on a silver tide!
Dearest, to my side.
What enchantment, in our magic vessel
Thus to glide,
Making music, on a silver tide!
Jingle! jingle!
How the fields go by!
Earth and air in snowy sheen commingle,
Far and nigh;
Is the ground beneath us, or the sky?
How the fields go by!
Earth and air in snowy sheen commingle,
Far and nigh;
Is the ground beneath us, or the sky?
Heavenward yonder,
In the lurid north,
From Valhalla's gates that roll asunder,
Red and wroth,
Balder's funeral flames are blazing forth.
In the lurid north,
From Valhalla's gates that roll asunder,
Red and wroth,
Balder's funeral flames are blazing forth.
O, what splendor!
How the hues expire!
All the elves of light their tribute render
To the pyre,
Clad in robes of gold and crimson fire.
How the hues expire!
All the elves of light their tribute render
To the pyre,
Clad in robes of gold and crimson fire.
58
Jingle! jingle!
Let the Earth go by!
With a wilder thrill our pulses tingle;
You and I
Will shout our loves, but aye forget to sigh!
Let the Earth go by!
With a wilder thrill our pulses tingle;
You and I
Will shout our loves, but aye forget to sigh!
| The poetical works of Edmund Clarence Stedman | |