Winter Scenes in Scotland.
Though vanished now the brilliant dyes,1
Whose splendour canopied the woods,2
And earth be roofed with leaden skies ;3
A mighty charm still o’er her broods.4
See, in the winding deep ravine,5
What forms of loveliness unknown6
Had lain ’neath summer’s pall of green,7
Veiling all beauties save her own ;8
Revealed through purpled elm and beech,9
Its eddying foam the torrent stirs10
By mossy coves, until it reach11
The dense o’erhanging shroud of firs ;12
The shelving rocks, with herbage fringed,13
The arrowy stems, in ivy stoled,14
The burnished holly, coral-tinged—15
These winter’s hands to sight unfold16
Or, when keen frost crusts white the land,17
And wraps in mist th’ enfeebled rays,18
Like crystal wrought by cunning hand,19
The boughs entwine their feath’ry sprays.20
Ere yet the sun forsakes the west,21
To distant space the mist is rolled ;22
Amid the mountain’s shadowed breast23
There lies a mellow haze of gold.24
White distant summits, tap’ring high,25
Flush with the budding rose’s hue,26
As, floating down the turquoise sky,27
The sun’s last fringes sink from view.28
Awhile their crests the mountains rear,29
Still sterner, colder, than before ;30
Awhile dim shadows they appear,31
Then, blent with night, are seen no more.32