A Zetland Winter.

Now frowns the sun-god on the Northland dark,1
And turns away the brightness of his face2
From hill, and shore, and sea a dreary space,3
And stills the gladsome singing of the lark.4
Now lies the Northland all, snow-sheeted, stark,5
And steel-cold skies are ever steeped in Night,6
Save where the moon-elves dance in silver light,7
And gleaming stars the rapt eye’s limit mark.8
Hence comes it that the fiery Northland heart9
Is touched with Sorrow, and the tale of doom,10
And sings the Winter’s deep encircling gloom,11
In living words, whence soul-fires glowing, dart ;12
That mighty thoughts, like wild Auroras, sweep,13
And fling their splendours o’er the Northern Deep.14