And with the snow-gust from the darkness drear,
A stranger entered, whose large garments bore
Proof of the storm in clinging snowflakes hoar.
XX.
Aged he seemed, and staff of length had he,
Which well would holy pilgrim have become,
But yet he sought, with quiet dignity
And easy step, the centre of the room;
Then by the glimmering light our Sire could see
His flowing beard, white as the lily’s bloom;