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POEMS.
That float, with our processions, through the air;And here, within our winter palaces,Mimic the glorious daybreak." Then she toldHow, when the wind, in the long winter nights,Swept the light snows into the hollow dell,She and her comrades guided to its placeEach wandering flake, and piled them quaintly up,In shapely colonnade and glistening arch,With shadowy aisles between, or bade them grow,Beneath their little hands, to bowery walksIn gardens such as these, and, o'er them all,Built the broad roof. "But thou hast yet to seeA fairer sight," she said, and led the wayTo where a window of pellucid iceStood in the wall of snow, beside their path."Look, but thou mayst not enter." Eva looked,
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