JANUARY.
The snow lies heavy on the hills,
The lowland wastes are white,
The sharp wind whistles shrill and cold
In the great elms, to-night;
And through the dim old hemlock woods
It heaves a quivering sigh,
And all the glittering host of stars
Listen and hear the cry;
While like a globe of frozen ice
The moon hangs in the sky.
The lowland wastes are white,
The sharp wind whistles shrill and cold
In the great elms, to-night;
And through the dim old hemlock woods
It heaves a quivering sigh,
And all the glittering host of stars
Listen and hear the cry;
While like a globe of frozen ice
The moon hangs in the sky.
The hazel's dainty twigs are white,
Touched by the silvery frost;
The hawthorn and the cedar hedge
In fleecy drifts are lost;
And down upon the broad blue lake
The waters take their rest
Beneath the crystal coffin-lid
Of ice upon their breast:
A conquered warrior, pinioned down,
The mill-wheel stands confessed.
Touched by the silvery frost;
The hawthorn and the cedar hedge
In fleecy drifts are lost;
And down upon the broad blue lake
The waters take their rest
Beneath the crystal coffin-lid
Of ice upon their breast:
A conquered warrior, pinioned down,
The mill-wheel stands confessed.
Out on the river's glittering plain
The skater's steel rings clear:
Winter's for him the carnival
Of all the beauteous year;
The skater's steel rings clear:
Winter's for him the carnival
Of all the beauteous year;
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