Poems (Trask)/December
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For works with similar titles, see December.
DECEMBER.
The cold winds, heavy with the breath of frost,
Rush down the lonesome gorges of the hills;
The withered leaves, their autumn crimson lost,
Strew the smooth surface of the ice-bound rills.
Rush down the lonesome gorges of the hills;
The withered leaves, their autumn crimson lost,
Strew the smooth surface of the ice-bound rills.
The elm-trees lift their rifled boughs aloft,
The dark pines shiver on the mountain ridge,
And o'er the gliding river's music soft
The King of Frost has built a crystal bridge.
The dark pines shiver on the mountain ridge,
And o'er the gliding river's music soft
The King of Frost has built a crystal bridge.
Soon o'er the mountain peaks that rise supreme,
To bathe their foreheads in the sunset glow,
Like the vague mistiness of some cold dream
Will come the first faint messengers of snow.
To bathe their foreheads in the sunset glow,
Like the vague mistiness of some cold dream
Will come the first faint messengers of snow.
Summer is past! I hear the whispered' words
From out the grim hiatus she has left;
Gone, with her wealth of flowers and singing-birds,
And we, who loved her, sorrow on bereft.
From out the grim hiatus she has left;
Gone, with her wealth of flowers and singing-birds,
And we, who loved her, sorrow on bereft.
Oh, Summer! in thy mellow days of balm
The gates swung open to the graveward track;
Heaven has another voice in the sweet psalm,—
An added treasure,—and the earth a lack.
The gates swung open to the graveward track;
Heaven has another voice in the sweet psalm,—
An added treasure,—and the earth a lack.
Ah, well! the way's not long, and by-and-by
We shall look back on what we suffered here,
And wonder that we thought it worth a sigh,
Or worth the silent utterance of a tear!
We shall look back on what we suffered here,
And wonder that we thought it worth a sigh,
Or worth the silent utterance of a tear!
Passed! and the harvest ended! Night is come!
Day dies in sable gloom along the west;
The night of winter falls: we turn to home,
Our recompense,—our promised place of rest.
Day dies in sable gloom along the west;
The night of winter falls: we turn to home,
Our recompense,—our promised place of rest.
I am content! Amen,—so let it be!
Peace lives within no doubt can e'er dispel!
Throughout all space a calm exists for me,—
I hear the grand assurance—All is well!
Peace lives within no doubt can e'er dispel!
Throughout all space a calm exists for me,—
I hear the grand assurance—All is well!
THE END.