A WINTER SCENE.

———

BY E. CLEMENTINE STEDMAN.

———

Unclouded the sun from his glittering throne

Looked radiantly down where the tempest had gone!

For in darkness it came with the tokens of wrath,

But fled at the dawn on its ice-covered path.

And straight in the sunbeams the forest displayed

A host in the armor of battle arrayed;

There the “helmet of brass,” and the shield glistened clear,

And the bright flashing steel of the sword and the spear.

The garden, where Flora in summer is green,

At the glance of the sun was all dazzling with sheen;

And never a princess outvied, with her gems,

The jewels that hung there on numberless stems!

The lawn trees which stand in the glory alone,

Each sparkled with diamonds, like kings, on a throne,

And ne’er when o’erspread with their green foliage shade,

Were they in such beauty or splendor arrayed!

And silver and gold, as in Solomon’s reign,

Were plenty as stones by the wayside again,

And bright did the spire and the roof with them glow,

While diadems shone on the tall mountain brow.

I gazed on the scene with unearthly delight,

And thought, while its radiance enraptured my sight.

Of that city, which one did in visions behold,

Whose gates were of pearl, and its streets paved with gold.

Again I looked forth, while the sunlight yet shone,

But the scene of enchantment I sought for was gone!

The sun, which had gilded each shrub with its ray,

Was melting the landscape of glory away!

Thus my hopes have dissolved, which once glistened so bright

In the sun of youth’s morn, to my fanciful sight;

Their brilliancy passed off in tears,—oh! how soon!

As the sleet-jewels melt in the sunbeams of noon.