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DECEMBER.
Nibbles his acorn, with no sense of loss,
For autumn's frosts make the ripe chestnuts fall.
The wild geese, fleeing from the Northern lakes,
Mingle their croaking with the shrieking wind,
And through the tangle of the copse-wood brakes
The hunted stag leaps with the hounds behind.
For autumn's frosts make the ripe chestnuts fall.
The wild geese, fleeing from the Northern lakes,
Mingle their croaking with the shrieking wind,
And through the tangle of the copse-wood brakes
The hunted stag leaps with the hounds behind.
At night the sky above the purple hills,
And all the rifted waste of cloudy heights,
Are radiant, and through the twilight stills
Like chapel tapers burn the stars' bright lights;
The circled moon, like Saturn and his rings,
Looks with cold eye upon the cold below;
The air so full of keen and frosty stings
Utters its prophecies of coming snow!
And all the rifted waste of cloudy heights,
Are radiant, and through the twilight stills
Like chapel tapers burn the stars' bright lights;
The circled moon, like Saturn and his rings,
Looks with cold eye upon the cold below;
The air so full of keen and frosty stings
Utters its prophecies of coming snow!
DECEMBER.
The cold winds, heavy with the breath of frost,
Rush down the lonesome gorges of the hills;
The withered leaves, their autumn crimson lost,
Strew the smooth surface of the ice-bound rills.
Rush down the lonesome gorges of the hills;
The withered leaves, their autumn crimson lost,
Strew the smooth surface of the ice-bound rills.
The elm-trees lift their rifled boughs aloft,
The dark pines shiver on the mountain ridge,
And o'er the gliding river's music soft
The King of Frost has built a crystal bridge.
The dark pines shiver on the mountain ridge,
And o'er the gliding river's music soft
The King of Frost has built a crystal bridge.
Soon o'er the mountain peaks that rise supreme,
To bathe their foreheads in the sunset glow,
To bathe their foreheads in the sunset glow,
