Firs deeply laden shake the snowy top,
Streams slowly freezing, fretting till they stop;
And void of stars the angry clouds look down
On the cold earth, exchanging frown with frown.
Such seem’d, at first, the cottage of our pair—
Fix’d in their fondness, in their prospects fair;
Youth, health, affection, all that life supplies,
Bright as the stars that gild the cloudless skies—
Were theirs—or seem’d to be; but soon the scene 220
Was black as if its light had never been.