With icicles that snap and fall.
There is no light on earth to-day—
The very sky is blank and gray;
Yet still the fountain’s quivering shaft
Leaps upward, as when Spring-time laughed.
No diamonds glitter on its brink,
No red-lipped blossoms bend to drink,
And on the blast, its fluttering wing
Is spread above no kindred thing.
The drops that strike the frozen mould