White Death

Methought the world was bound with final frost: The sun, made hueless as with fear and awe, Illumined still the lands it could not thaw. Then on my road, with instant evening crost, Death stood, and in its dusky veils enwound, Mine eyes forgot the light, until I came Where poured the inseparate, unshadowed flame Of phantom suns in self-irradiance drowned.

Death lay revealed in all its haggardness: Immitigable wastes horizonless; Profundities that held nor bar nor veil; All hues wherewith the suns and worlds were dyed In light invariable nullified; All darkness rendered shelterless and pale.