And strewn with walnuts were its autumn rills—

And chestnut burs! fruit of the spring's long flowers,

When from their tops the trees seemed streaming showers

Of slender silver, cool, crepuscular,

And like a nebulous radiance shone afar.

And maples! how their sappy hearts would gush

Broad troughs of syrup, when the winter bush

Steamed with the sugar-kettle, day and night,

And all the snow was streaked with firelight.

Then it was glorious! the mill-dam's edge,

One slant of frosty crystal, laid a ledge

Of pearl across; above which, sleeted trees

Tossed arms of ice, that, clashing in the breeze,

Tinkled the ringing creek with icicles,

Thin as the peal of Elfland's Sabbath bells:

[12] 

A sound that in my city dreams I hear,

That brings before me, under skies that clear,

The old mill in its winter garb of snow,

Its frozen wheel, a great hoar beard below,

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