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82
WINTER SCENERY.
JANUARY, 1809.
The dark sky lours: a crimson streak
In vain the heavy clouds would break;
The lowing herds desert the plain,
Scatter'd is all the fleecy train;
The feather'd songsters all are gone,
The dear domestic bird alone;
The cheerful robin, seeks his food,
And breaks the death-like solitude;
For, save his notes, no earthly sound
Through the chill air, is heard around:
E'en she, whose playful fondness still
Attends my steps on dale or hill;
She, who still wears the victor blue,
Maria, of the raven hue!
No longer seeks with frolic glee,
Where'er I roam, to follow me;
But shrinks within her shelter warm,
And hides in straw her graceful form.
In vain the heavy clouds would break;
The lowing herds desert the plain,
Scatter'd is all the fleecy train;
The feather'd songsters all are gone,
The dear domestic bird alone;
The cheerful robin, seeks his food,
And breaks the death-like solitude;
For, save his notes, no earthly sound
Through the chill air, is heard around:
83
Attends my steps on dale or hill;
She, who still wears the victor blue,
Maria, of the raven hue!
No longer seeks with frolic glee,
Where'er I roam, to follow me;
But shrinks within her shelter warm,
And hides in straw her graceful form.
Yet lovelier is the magic scene,
Than blooming summer's brightest green:
The icicles in crystal row,
Suspended from the pent-house low,
O'er the luxuriant ivy fall,
Or glitter on the moss-grown wall;
The level lawn, in dazzling light,
Array'd in pure unsullied white,
Scarce marks, with undulating bend,
With its smooth edge, where waters blend.
Crown'd is each grove with vestal snow,
Whilst varied colors gleam below:
The holly's deeply burnish'd green,
With coral berries faintly seen,
The oak's rich leaves of saffron hue,
The towering fir's dark misty blue,
Closer their mingling branches twine,
And through their brilliant burthen shine.
Than blooming summer's brightest green:
The icicles in crystal row,
Suspended from the pent-house low,
O'er the luxuriant ivy fall,
Or glitter on the moss-grown wall;
The level lawn, in dazzling light,
Array'd in pure unsullied white,
Scarce marks, with undulating bend,
With its smooth edge, where waters blend.
84
Whilst varied colors gleam below:
The holly's deeply burnish'd green,
With coral berries faintly seen,
The oak's rich leaves of saffron hue,
The towering fir's dark misty blue,
Closer their mingling branches twine,
And through their brilliant burthen shine.
See on the pine the snow arise,
A tapering cone, it seeks the skies!
Or wreaths the rugged elm around!
Or bends the light broom to the ground!
Or, in ethereal lustre gay,
Clothes the pale aspen's flexile spray!
A tapering cone, it seeks the skies!
Or wreaths the rugged elm around!
Or bends the light broom to the ground!
Or, in ethereal lustre gay,
Clothes the pale aspen's flexile spray!
And, still to fancy's eye more dear,
What strange fantastic forms appear!
High arches rise, abrupt and bright,
And gothic fret-work silvery light;
There frown dark pillars, slim and tall,
And there the mouldering turrets fall!
But, emblem true of human joys,
Rais'd in an hour, an hour destroys;
Already has the brilliant ray
Melted the fairy scene away;
No fleecy whiteness decks the ground,
No glittering frost-work gleams around;
All, all are gone. The swollen flood
Spreads its stain'd waters to the wood;
Each tree, with snowy crest so fair,
That rose with gay fantastic air,
Now waves its dark boughs, rough and bare;
And o'er the hills, the groves, the plains,
The dæmon Desolation reigns!
What strange fantastic forms appear!
High arches rise, abrupt and bright,
And gothic fret-work silvery light;
85
And there the mouldering turrets fall!
But, emblem true of human joys,
Rais'd in an hour, an hour destroys;
Already has the brilliant ray
Melted the fairy scene away;
No fleecy whiteness decks the ground,
No glittering frost-work gleams around;
All, all are gone. The swollen flood
Spreads its stain'd waters to the wood;
Each tree, with snowy crest so fair,
That rose with gay fantastic air,
Now waves its dark boughs, rough and bare;
And o'er the hills, the groves, the plains,
The dæmon Desolation reigns!
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