Page:Poems Trask.djvu/107

Seeming like dismal funeral shrouds
  On heaven's arch;
Building above the shuddering world
  A cenotaph,
Writing on scroll of blue unfurled
  God's autograph.

Cold, cold the icy wind comes down
  From Northern moors,
Frightening the stray birds feathered brown,—
  Hark! how it roars!
Tumbling the restless, feathery snow
  To swelling hills;
Filling the air with frosty glow
  And frozen chills.

The moonlight silent as the dead,
  And ghostly white,
Sinks down through weird and frosty void,
  Down, in the night,
Dropping upon the river's breast
  A mail of pearl,
On each still wave a diamond crest
  Fit for an earl.

The mountain cliffs crash wide apart,
  With deafening sound;
And up the answering echoes start
  From all around;
The fierce winds with their bellowings strive,
  Making high boasts,
Until the whole earth seems alive
  With noisy ghosts.