With star-dust pulsing tremorously.
Snow, the lady of the Winter Knight,
Hath danced her weary and fallen to her rest.
She lieth stretched in purity
And dimpled ’neath the trees.
A trackless waste doth lie from hill
To valley ’neath, and Winter’s Knight
Doth sing a wooing lay unto his love.
Cot on cot doth stand deserted,
And thro’ the purpled dark they show