Page:The Romance of Nature; or, The Flower-Seasons Illustrated.djvu/388

254 And my feats are ever so silently done

They're all unguessed, till the morning sun

Ruddy and round, 'mid vapours tost

Looks on a kingdom of white hoar-frost.

These are my sports—and oft I fling

A glassy floor from rim to rim

Of the lake that shines i' the valley low;

And then—how merrily, swiftly go

The skaiters along!—They dart—they skim—

Or circle in many a mazy ring;

Oh! these are the sports of the cold Ice-king.

And what hast thou to show,

In thy russet bower and leavy pall,

Can match with my boundless and glittering Hall?"

Queen of the sober shroud,

Haste thee away—begone—

For the Ice-king hurryeth on:

He travels along on a swift black cloud;

The strong winds his coursers are;

He travels along—and their roar so loud

Before him rolls afar—

He comes—and the leafless woods bend down

Before the King of the Icy crown.

He comes in terror, and wrath, and dread;

Around him the storm and the blast outspread

Their awful wings—and the darken'd sky

Frowns on the earth most gloomily—