Hoar Frost
What dream of beauty ever equalled this!
What bands from Faeryland have sallied forth,
With snowy foliage from the 'abundant North,
With imagery from the realms of bliss!
What visions of my boyhood do I miss
That here are not restored! All splendours pure,
All loveliness, all graces that allure,
Shapes that amaze; a paradise that is,-----
Yet was not, --will not in few moments be:
Glory from nakedness, that playfully
Mimics with passing life each summer boon,
Clothing the ground - replenishing the tree,
Weaving arch, bower, and delicate festoon;
Still as a dream, - and like a dream to flee!
William Howitt
