FAIRIES OF THE FROST

When the Frost-spirit, with her icy wand,

Strikes the cold Northwind, bringing frost and snow,

She sends her Fairies through the frozen land

To deck with sculpture all the world below;

Soon every bank, so lately green with grass,

Like streets of marble to the margin lies,

And here and there, wherever one may pass,

Frail, fairy structures magic-like arise;

The slender willows, bow'd in artless grief,

Appear in white, as pledge of Winter's care,

And every idle reed and clinging leaf

Have spirits, full as bright, beside them there;

While pine and hemlock, shorn of all their green,

Stand out like sculptur'd Druids of the wood;

And the small beeches, hovering between,

Seem children of some banish'd brotherhood;

The broken stumps become as kingly chairs,

The fallen logs, great pillars, round and white,

And the dead branches, Oriental stairs

That lead to rooms all glittering with light;

Each mossy knoll becomes a marble mound,

Th’ unlettered stones, all artless works of art,

And e'en the brooklets in the forest round

Are set with diamonds dear to Nature's heart.