Stretches the shining level of the snow,
Which yields and creaks each laboured step I go,
My breath preceding in a vapour chill.
Now silent all. There where the clouds stand still
The moon leaps forth into the blank, to throw
An awful shadow, a gaunt pine below,
Of branches crossed and bent in manner ill.
They seem like the uneasy thought of death.
O Winter vast, embrace me and quick stay
In icy hold my heart's tempestuous waves!