WINTER SONG. SUMMER joys are o'er; Through the snow-drifts peeping, Rarely now is seen. Now no plumèd throng Charms the wood with song; Winter, still I see Many charms in thee,- And the dear delights Of the long, long nights. From the German of LUDWIG H. C. HÖLTY. Translation of CHARLES TIMOTHY BROOKS. FROM 66 WINTER MORNING. THE WINTER MORNING WALK: 66 THE TASK," BK. V. 99 "T is the morning, and the sun with ruddy orb Ascending fires the horizon; while the clouds, That crowd away before the driving wind, More ardent as the disc emerges more, Resembles most some city in a blaze, Seen through the leafless wood. His slanting ray And, tingeing all with his own rosy hue, The verdure of the plain lies buried deep Forth goes the woodman, leaving unconcerned The cheerful haunts of men,-to wield the axe And drive the wedge in yonder forest drear, From morn to eve his solitary task. Shaggy and lean and shrewd with pointed ears, And tail cropped short, half lurcher and half cur, His dog attends him. Close behind his heel Now creeps he slow; and now, with many a frisk Wide-scampering, snatches up the drifted snow With ivory teeth, or ploughs it with his snout; Then shakes his powdered coat, and barks for joy. Now from the roost, or from the neighboring pale, Where, diligent to catch the first faint gleam His wonted strut, and, wading at their head Beneath the frozen clod; all seeds of herbs The long protracted vigor of the year Thins all their numerous flocks. In chinks and holes Ten thousand seek an unmolested end, As instinct prompts; self-buried ere they die. WILLIAM COWPER. SLEIGH SONG. JINGLE, jingle, clear the way, Who among them cares for me? Capes and bonnets white with snow, Not a single robe they fold G. W. PETTEE. OUR SKATER BELLE. ALONG the frozen lake she comes In linking crescents, light and fleet; The ice-imprisoned Undine hums A welcome to her little feet. I see the jaunty hat, the plume Swerve birdlike in the joyous gale,— The cheeks lit up to burning bloom, The young eyes sparkling through the veil. The quick breath parts her laughing lips, The white neck shines through tossing curls; Her vesture gently sways and dips, As on she speeds in shell-like whirls. Men stop and smile to see her go; They gaze, they smile in pleased surprise; They ask her name; they long to show Some silent friendship in their eyes. She glances not; she passes on; Her steely footfall quicker rings; She guesses not the benison Which follows her on noiseless wings. Smooth be her ways, secure her tread ANONYMOUS. |