Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/218
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THE FROSTED TREES.
Beneath November's clouded sky,
In chill December's stormy hours,
Thy blossom meets the traveller's eye,
Gay as the buds of summer bowers.
In chill December's stormy hours,
Thy blossom meets the traveller's eye,
Gay as the buds of summer bowers.
Flower of the dark and wintry day,
Emblem of friendship, thee I hail,
Blooming when others fade away,
And brightest when their hues grow pale.
Emblem of friendship, thee I hail,
Blooming when others fade away,
And brightest when their hues grow pale.
The Wild Briar.
The woods are stripped to the wintry winds,
And faded the flowers that bloomed on the lea,
But one lingering gem the wanderer finds,
'Tis the ruby fruit of the Wild Briar tree.
And faded the flowers that bloomed on the lea,
But one lingering gem the wanderer finds,
'Tis the ruby fruit of the Wild Briar tree.
The strong have bowed down, the beauteous are dead,
The blast through the forest sighs mournfully;
And bared is full many a lofty head,
But there's fruit on the lowly Wild Briar tree.
The blast through the forest sighs mournfully;
And bared is full many a lofty head,
But there's fruit on the lowly Wild Briar tree.
It has cheered yon bird that so gentle and well
Sings—What are the gaudy flowers to me?
For here will I build my nest and dwell,
By the simple, faithful, Wild Briar tree.
Sings—What are the gaudy flowers to me?
For here will I build my nest and dwell,
By the simple, faithful, Wild Briar tree.
The Frosted Trees.
What strange enchantment meets my view,
So wondrous bright and fair?
Has heaven poured out its silver dew
On the rejoicing air?
Or am I borne to regions new
To see the glories there?
So wondrous bright and fair?
Has heaven poured out its silver dew
On the rejoicing air?
Or am I borne to regions new
To see the glories there?
Last eve when sunset filled the sky
With wreaths of golden light,
The trees sent up their arms on high,
All leafless to the sight,
And sleepy mists came down to lie
On the dark breast of night.
With wreaths of golden light,
The trees sent up their arms on high,
All leafless to the sight,
And sleepy mists came down to lie
On the dark breast of night.