 | Poems |  |
94
FEBRUARY.
The treacherous fowler, in the drifted wreath,
The snare conceals, and strews the husky lure,
Tempting the famished fowls of heaven to light:
They light; the captive strives in vain to fly,
Scattering around, with fluttering wing, the snow.
Amid the untrod snows, oft let me roam
Far up the lonely glen, and mark its change;
The frozen rill's hoarse murmur scarce is heard;
The rocky cleft, the fairy bourne smoothed up,
Repeat no more my solitary voice.
The snare conceals, and strews the husky lure,
Tempting the famished fowls of heaven to light:
They light; the captive strives in vain to fly,
Scattering around, with fluttering wing, the snow.
Amid the untrod snows, oft let me roam
Far up the lonely glen, and mark its change;
The frozen rill's hoarse murmur scarce is heard;
The rocky cleft, the fairy bourne smoothed up,
Repeat no more my solitary voice.
Now to the icy plain the city swarms.
In giddy circles, whirling variously,
The skater fleetly thrids the mazy throng,
While smaller wights the sliding pastime ply.
Unhappy he, of poverty the child!
Who, barefoot, standing, eyes his merry mates,
And, shivering, weeps, not for the biting cold,
But that he cannot join their slippery sport.
In giddy circles, whirling variously,
The skater fleetly thrids the mazy throng,
While smaller wights the sliding pastime ply.
Unhappy he, of poverty the child!
95
And, shivering, weeps, not for the biting cold,
But that he cannot join their slippery sport.
Trust not incautiously the smooth expanse;
For oft a treacherous thaw, ere yet perceived,
Saps by degrees the solid-seeming mass:
At last the long piled mountain snows dissolve,
Bursting the roaring river's brittle bonds;
The shattered fragments down the cataract shoot,
And, sinking in the boiling deep below,
At distance re-appear, then sweep along,
Marking their height upon the half-sunk trees.
For oft a treacherous thaw, ere yet perceived,
Saps by degrees the solid-seeming mass:
At last the long piled mountain snows dissolve,
Bursting the roaring river's brittle bonds;
The shattered fragments down the cataract shoot,
And, sinking in the boiling deep below,
At distance re-appear, then sweep along,
Marking their height upon the half-sunk trees.
No more the ploughman hurls the sounding quoit;
The loosened glebe demands the rusted share,
And slow the toiling team plods o'er the field.
But oft, ere half the winding task be done,
Returning frost again usurps the year,
Fixing the ploughshare in the unfinished fur;
And still, at times, the flaky shower descends,
Whitening the plain, save where the wheaten blade
Peering, uplifts its green and hardy head,
As if just springing from a soil of snow.
The loosened glebe demands the rusted share,
And slow the toiling team plods o'er the field.
But oft, ere half the winding task be done,
Returning frost again usurps the year,
Fixing the ploughshare in the unfinished fur;
And still, at times, the flaky shower descends,
Whitening the plain, save where the wheaten blade
Peering, uplifts its green and hardy head,
As if just springing from a soil of snow.
While yet the night is long, and drear, and chill,
Soon as the slanting sun has sunk from view,
The sounding anvil cheerily invites
The weary hind to leave his twinkling fire,
And bask himself before the furnace glare;
Where, blest with unbought mirth, the rustic ring,
Their faces tinted by the yellow blaze,
Beguile the hours, nor envy rooms of state.
Soon as the slanting sun has sunk from view,
96
The weary hind to leave his twinkling fire,
And bask himself before the furnace glare;
Where, blest with unbought mirth, the rustic ring,
Their faces tinted by the yellow blaze,
Beguile the hours, nor envy rooms of state.
| Poems | |