34 A GOOD WORD FOR WINTER. 



in the Lake Country even the winter storms bring rain 

 rather than snow. He was thankful for the Christmas 

 visits of Crabb Robinson, because they &quot; helped him through 

 the winter.&quot; His only hearty praise of winter is when, as 

 General Fevrier, he defeats the French : 



&quot; Humanity, delighting to behold 

 A fond reflection of her own decay, 

 Hath painted Winter like a traveller old, 

 Propped on a staff, and, through the sullen day, 

 In hooded mantle, limping o er the plain 

 As though his weakness were disturbed by pain: 

 Or, if a juster fancy should allow 

 An undisputed symbol of command, 

 The chosen sceptre is a withered bough 

 Infirmly grasped within a withered hand. 

 These emblems suit the helpless and forlorn ; 

 But mighty Winter the device shall scorn.&quot; 



The Scottish poet Grahame, in his &quot; Sabbath,&quot; says 

 manfully : 



&quot; Now is the time 

 To visit Nature in her grand attire ;&quot; 



and he has one little picture which no other poet has 

 surpassed : 



&quot; High -ridged the whirled drift has almost reached 

 The powdered keystone of the churchyard porch : 

 Mute hangs the hooded bell ; the tombs lie buried.&quot; 



Even in our own climate, where the sun shows his winter 

 face as long and as brightly as in central Italy, the seduction 

 of the chimney-corner is apt to predominate in the mind 

 over the severer satisfactions of muffled fields and penitential 

 woods. The very title of Whittier s delightful &quot; Snow- 

 Bound &quot; shows what he was thinking of, though he does not 

 vapour a little about digging out paths. The verses of 

 Emerson, perfect as a Greek fragment (despite the archaism 

 of a dissyllabic fire), which he has chosen for his epigraph, 

 tell us too how the 



&quot; Housemates sit 



Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed 

 In a tumultuous privacy of storm.&quot; 



