Arrayed in winter’s garb. Oh gorgeous sight,
Unutterably grand! The morn was black
And dark and dismal; through the middle day
The storm’s white burden was cast down to earth
With strange rapidity; and now the night
Shines bright and glorious, beautiful and fair!
Far o’er the head, so lofty that the eye
Can scarce rise up to view her, glows the moon
With keen intensity of silver light,
And from her heavenly altitude pours down