But just as gay as it is in June
Is the brook as it sings its winter tune.
Jack Frost makes his call,—and droop the ferns;
Again and again the sprite returns,
Till over the pool beneath the pines
A magical covering gleams and shines.
Now hide and seek does the brooklet play,
For it dashes forth once more on its way,
Again to be hidden beneath the snow,
That gives no hint of the songster below.