I'll silently take my way.
I will not go on like that blustering train,
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,
That make so much bustle and noise in vain.
But I'll be as busy as they!"
He flew up, and powdered the mountain's crest;
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he drest
With diamonds and pearls;—and over the breast
Of the quivering Lake he spread
A bright coat of mail that it need not fear