And crystal snowflakes weave their cerement.
Six pairs of skies,[1] each improvised a sled,
On which were placed the stark and staring dead;
As flickering lanterns flashed a ghostly glow
Upon them in their winding-sheets of snow,
The sad procession now retraced its course
Back through the dismal forest, while the blast
Wailed forth a requiem in accents hoarse,
Which shuddering pines re-echoed as it passed.