While music wakes around, veiled in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
His most artistic poem is Winter:
When from the pallid sky the sun descends
With many a spot, that o'er his glaring orb
Uncertain wanders, stained; red fiery streaks
Begin to flush around. The reeling clouds
Stagger with dizzy poise, as doubting yet
Which master to obey; while rising slow,
Blank in the leaden-coloured east, the moon