Page:Francesca Carrara 2.pdf/209

206 shivering glance, when they mounted, at the white world around, neither had noticed that peculiar and brilliant landscape, a wooded country covered with a rime frost. But now, the first fog of the morning had cleared away; the shelter of the dense boughs made it much warmer; and the round red sun looked cheerfully as it shed its crimson hues amid the topmost branches. The light snow lay on the narrow and winding path before them, pure as if just fresh winnowed by the wind. The outline of every tree was marked with the utmost distinctness by the frost which covered it; but every spray drooped beneath the weight of the fairy and fragile tracery that gemmed them; while the gossamer threads, like strung and worked pearls, seemed to catch every stray sunbeam, and glitter with the bright and passing hues of crystal. Every tree was as distinguishable as in summer. The oak might be known by the weight of snow supported in its huge arms; the ash by the long and graceful wreaths that clothed its pensile branches; and the holly wore a long icicle, clear, and radiant with many colours, at the end of every pointed leaf; while the noiseless manner in which they moved along, from the light fall on the paths, added to the enchantment of the scene.