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Frost pictures.
Paint me, I pray, the phantom hosts that hold
Celestial tourneys when the midnight calls,
On airy steeds, with lances bright and bold,
Storming her ancient halls!
Celestial tourneys when the midnight calls,
On airy steeds, with lances bright and bold,
Storming her ancient halls!
Yet, while I look, the magic picture fades,
Melts the bright tracery from the frosted pane;
Trees, vales, and cliffs, in sparkling snows arrayed,
Dissolve in silvery rain.
Melts the bright tracery from the frosted pane;
Trees, vales, and cliffs, in sparkling snows arrayed,
Dissolve in silvery rain.
Without, the day's pale glories sink and swell
Over the black rise of yon wooded height;
The moon's thin crescent, like a stranded shell
Left on the shores of night.
Over the black rise of yon wooded height;
The moon's thin crescent, like a stranded shell
Left on the shores of night.
Hark how the north wind, with a hasty hand
Rattling my casement, frames his mystic rhyme;
House thee, rude minstrel, chanting through the land
Runes of the olden time!
Rattling my casement, frames his mystic rhyme;
House thee, rude minstrel, chanting through the land
Runes of the olden time!
