An icy ocean, with an icy shore,
And icy islands, sparsely thrown among
A yest of icy waves; and all was ice,
By sempiternal Winter wrought
To many a quaint device.
And then again, when the cold North-wind kissed
Her pallid lips, up to the amethyst
Of the far heaven she raised her spirit eyes,
Then beat, and wept, while ever grim Surprise
Wondered that she should weep, and then she played