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KNICKERBOCKER GALLERY.
And some, as on tender wings they glide From their chilly birth-cloud, dim and gray,Are joined in their fall, and, side by side, Come clinging along their unsteady way;As friend with friend or husband with wifeMakes hand in hand the passage of life;Each mated flakeSoon sinks in the dark and silent lake.
Lo! while we are gazing, in swifter haste Stream down the snows, till the air is white,As, myriads by myriads madly chased, They fling themselves from their shadowy height.The fair frail creatures of middle sky,What speed they make with their grave so nigh;Flake after flake,To lie in the dark and silent lake!
I see in thy gentle eyes a tear; They turn to me in sorrowful thought;Thou thinkest of friends, the good and dear, Who were for a time and now are not;Like these fair children of cloud and frost,That glisten a moment, and then are lost,Flake after flake,All lost in the dark and silent lake.
Yet look again, for the clouds divide; A gleam of blue on the water lies;And far away, on the mountain side, A sunbeam falls from the opening skies.But the hurrying host that flew betweenThe cloud and the water no more is seen;Flake after flake,At rest in the dark and silent lake.
