A WINTER PHANTASY
The day was all delight,
Chorus and golden tune;
Rides the steep night
The white ship of the moon.
Now that the night is come
And silence wakes to power,
All that was dumb
Has its triumphal hour.
My soul, behold a sail
The seas of Heaven upon,
Rise up and hail
That roving galleon.
High above winter frost
Speed on uncharted ways,
Enraptured, lost,
Past thrall of nights and days.
Burnt fervent-white with rime,
The blurred earth hangs beneath,
Frost-light sublime,
Frost-tapers lit for death.
Look down the mists and see
The orchards mazed with snow;
Grey, tangled tree,
Lichen and mistletoe.
But, ere the dim world falls
Engulfed, upon your track,
Even at Heaven’s walls,
Turn back, turn back!
And as the miles decrease,
By all that foils regret,
By all that is your peace,
My soul, forget.