WINTER.

Stern tyrant of the year! The circling hours bring thine ascendant day, And hill and plain, sky, sea, and stream obey Thy rule austere. The conqueror's march is thine; Each step thou mark'st with trophies of decay, And with the fair earth's ruins thy proud way Dost thickly line. Deathful thy scowl of gloom; And the soft green from tree and shrub doth pass, And summer's delicate flowers and twinkling grass Are spoiled of bloom. Beneath thy chilling breath The sweet-voiced brooks, that bounded on their way Gleesome and frisk, as children at their play, Lie stiff in death. Thou speak'st, and the blithe hum Of insect life, the choral measures sung By tuneful birds the greenwood boughs among, Are stricken dumb. Earth's sceptre thou dost bear; And the white badge of servitude to thee Each crested mount, low valley, stream, and tree Submissive wear. Therefore, dread power! rejoice; Bid the shrill winds pipe out thy triumph high, And ocean's glad, accordant waves reply With thunder-voice. Yet, deem not, potent One! Though subject earth lie prostrate at thy feet, That, throned in universal empire's seat, Thou reign'st alone. The nobler Spirit-world No trophies of thy prowess yields to thee; No flaunting banner of thy sovereignty Is there unfurled. The gladsome stream of thought Glides fertilizing on, untamed and free, And tracks its bright way toward Thought's central sea, Heeding thee nought. The green growths of the soul Their fragrance breathe, despite thy stormy air, And not one delicate tint their blossoms wear Owns thy control. No winter blights and lours Where sojourneth the faithful spirit clear, Fruitage and bloom for it the teeming year Conjointly showers. Then hail, dread Power, to thee! Intently gazing in thy rugged face, E'en there, methinks, benignity I trace, True kindness see. Thou bidst me turn within To what, untouched of time and change, doth live, That, which not outward things can ever give, Or from me win. One universal tomb May close on all earth's glorious, bright, and fair, But to itself still true, the Soul shall wear Unwithering bloom. D. H. B.