Unearthly white.

Thick draws the dark,

And spark by spark,

The frost-fires kindle, and soon

Over that sea of frozen foam

Floats the white moon.

[Pg 27]

[Pg 27]

THERE BLOOMS NO BUD IN MAY

There blooms no bud in May

Can for its white compare

With snow at break of day,

On fields forlorn and bare.

For shadow it hath rose,

Azure, and amethyst;

And every air that blows

Dies out in beauteous mist.

It hangs the frozen bough

With flowers on which the night

Wheeling her darkness through

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