Poems (May)/Frost pictures
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FROST PICTURES.
When, like a sullen exile driven forth,
Southward, December drags his icy chain,
He graves fair pictures of his native North
On the crisp window pane.
==
So some pale captive blurs, with lips unshorn,
The latticed glass, and shapes rude outlines there,
With listless finger, and a look forlorn,
Cheating his dull despair.
==
The fairy fragments of some Arctic scene,
I see to-night; blank wastes of Polar snow,
Ice-laden boughs, and feathery pines that lean
Over ravines below.
==
Black, frozen lakes, and icy peaks blown bare,
Break the white surface of the crusted pane,
And spear-like leaves, long ferns, and blossoms fair,
Linked in a silvery chain.
==
Draw me, I pray thee, by this slender thread,
Fancy, thou sorceress, bending, vision-wrought,
O'er that dim well, perpetually fed
By the clear springs of thought!
==
Northward I turn, and tread those dreary strands,
Lakes where the wild-fowl breed, the swan abides;
Shores where the white fox, burrowing in the sands,
Harks to the droning tides.
==
And seas where, drifting on a raft of ice,
The she-bear rears her young; and cliffs so high,
The dark-winged birds that emulate their rise
Melt through the pale blue sky.
==
There, all night long, with far-diverging rays
And stalking shades, the red Auroras glow;
From the keen heaven, mock suns with pallid blaze
Light up the Arctic snow.
==
Guide me, I pray, along those waves remote,
That deep unstartled from its primal rest;
Some errant sail, the fisher's lone, light boat,
Borne waif-like o'er its breast!
==
Lead me, I pray, where never shallop's keel
Brake the dull ripples throbbing to their caves;
Where the mailed glacier with his armed heel
Spurs the resisting waves!
==
Paint me, I pray, the phantom hosts that hold
Celestial tourneys when the midnight calls,
On airy steeds, with lances bright and bold,
Storming her ancient halls!
==
Yet, while I look, the magic picture fades,
Melts the bright tracery from the frosted pane;
Trees, vales, and cliffs, in sparkling snows arrayed,
Dissolve in silvery rain.
==
Without, the day's pale glories sink and swell
Over the black rise of yon wooded height;
The moon's thin crescent, like a stranded shell
Left on the shores of night.
==
Hark how the north wind, with a hasty hand
Rattling my casement, frames his mystic rhyme;
House thee, rude minstrel, chanting through the land
Runes of the olden time!
Southward, December drags his icy chain,
He graves fair pictures of his native North
On the crisp window pane.
==
So some pale captive blurs, with lips unshorn,
The latticed glass, and shapes rude outlines there,
With listless finger, and a look forlorn,
Cheating his dull despair.
==
The fairy fragments of some Arctic scene,
I see to-night; blank wastes of Polar snow,
Ice-laden boughs, and feathery pines that lean
Over ravines below.
==
Black, frozen lakes, and icy peaks blown bare,
Break the white surface of the crusted pane,
And spear-like leaves, long ferns, and blossoms fair,
Linked in a silvery chain.
==
Draw me, I pray thee, by this slender thread,
Fancy, thou sorceress, bending, vision-wrought,
O'er that dim well, perpetually fed
By the clear springs of thought!
==
Northward I turn, and tread those dreary strands,
Lakes where the wild-fowl breed, the swan abides;
Shores where the white fox, burrowing in the sands,
Harks to the droning tides.
==
And seas where, drifting on a raft of ice,
The she-bear rears her young; and cliffs so high,
The dark-winged birds that emulate their rise
Melt through the pale blue sky.
==
There, all night long, with far-diverging rays
And stalking shades, the red Auroras glow;
From the keen heaven, mock suns with pallid blaze
Light up the Arctic snow.
==
Guide me, I pray, along those waves remote,
That deep unstartled from its primal rest;
Some errant sail, the fisher's lone, light boat,
Borne waif-like o'er its breast!
==
Lead me, I pray, where never shallop's keel
Brake the dull ripples throbbing to their caves;
Where the mailed glacier with his armed heel
Spurs the resisting waves!
==
Paint me, I pray, the phantom hosts that hold
Celestial tourneys when the midnight calls,
On airy steeds, with lances bright and bold,
Storming her ancient halls!
==
Yet, while I look, the magic picture fades,
Melts the bright tracery from the frosted pane;
Trees, vales, and cliffs, in sparkling snows arrayed,
Dissolve in silvery rain.
==
Without, the day's pale glories sink and swell
Over the black rise of yon wooded height;
The moon's thin crescent, like a stranded shell
Left on the shores of night.
==
Hark how the north wind, with a hasty hand
Rattling my casement, frames his mystic rhyme;
House thee, rude minstrel, chanting through the land
Runes of the olden time!