AS RELATED TO TASTE. 65 



More distinctly in the daylight 



Saw the icy face before him 



It was Peboan, the Winter. 



From his eyes the tears were flowing, 



As from melting lakes the streamlets, 



And his body shrunk and dwindled 



As the shouting sun ascended, 



Till into the air it faded, 



Till into the ground it vanish'd, 



And the young man saw before him, 



On the hearthstone of the wigwam, 



Where the fire had smoked and smolder'd, 



Saw the earliest flower of Spring-time, 



Saw the beauty of the Spring-time, 



Saw the Miskodeed in blossom." 



Along the whole stream of ancient song, the ob- 

 jects of Natural History are set in thick and sweet 

 profusion not gathered into clusters, but adorning 

 the richness of the poetic imagery as flowers deck 

 the meadows ; and the soft numbers seem to flow 

 like pearly streams reflecting the nodding verdure on 

 their grassy banks. How beautifully are they 

 braided into song, as a chaplet for the tomb of 



the Grecian poet! 



6* 



