I will not go on like that [blustering train],
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,
That make such a bustle and noise [in vain];
But I’ll be as busy as they!”
So he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest;
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed
With diamonds and pearls; and over the breast
Of the quivering lake, he spread
A coat of mail, that it need not fear
The glittering point of many a spear