Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/49

Uncoroneted. Broider'd frost-work wraps
Yon stunted pear-tree, whose ne'er ripen'd fruit,
Acid and bitter, every truant-boy
Blamed with set teeth. Lo! while I speak, its crown
Kindleth in bossy crimson, and a stream
Of Tyrian purple, blent with emerald spark,
Floats round its rugged arms; while here and there
Gleams out a living sapphire, mid a knot
Of trembling rubies, whose exquisite ray
O'erpowers the astonish'd sight.
                                                    One arctic queen,
For one ice-palace, rear'd with fearful toil,
And soon dissolving, scrupled not to pay
Her vassal's life; and emperors of old
Have drain'd their coffers for the people's gaze,
Though but a single amphitheatre
Compress'd the crowd. But thou, whose potent wand
Call'd forth such grand enchantment, swift as thought,
And silent as a vision, and canst spread
Its wondrous beauty to each gazing eye,
Nor be the poorer, thou art scorn'd and bann'd
Mid all thy beauty. Summer scantly sheds
A few brief dew-drops for the sun to dry,
And wins loud praise from every piping swain
For the proud fête.
                                   Yet, certes, in these days,
When wealth is so esteem'd that he who boasts
The longest purse is sure the wisest man,
Winter, who thus affords to sprinkle gems,
Mile after mile, on all the landscape round,
And decks his new-made peers in richer robes
Than monarch ever gave, deserves more thanks