The Frozen River
The silver-powdered willows of the Quai
Rise frosty-clear against the roseate skies,
The winter sunlight mellows ere it dies
And lingers where the frozen river lies.
Between the hurrying wharves, a sheet of grey
It sleeps beneath the parapet of stone:
A sudden desolation, empty, lone
And silent with a silence of its own.
All round the city vast and loud and gay!
…If one should weary of the press and din
And venture here, beware! the crust is thin;
One step—and lo, the Abyss would draw him in.
Athwart the happiest lives of every day
Beside the Lovers' Walk, the household mart,
Think ye there lies no silent road apart?
No mute and frozen Chasm of the heart?
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