THE PESSIMIST.
Arrayed in a garment of fleeciest down,
The Winter-king rides over meadows so brown;
Through wild wailing woodlands so stark and so bare,
He rides on the wind to the great everywhere.
He dresses the trees in the daintiest gown;
And over each window in country and town,
With fairy-like fingers, unheard and unseen,
He pictures, in crystal and silvery sheen,
Most beautiful cities with steeples and towers,