1871. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



81 



A "WTNTEB POEM. 



BY J. O. VHITTI£H. 



A sound as if from balls of silver, 

 Or ellin cymbals smitten clear, 

 Through the frost-pictured panes I hear. 



A brightness which outshines the morning, 

 A splendor brooking no delay 

 Beckons and tempts my feet away. 



I leave the trodden village highway, 

 For virgin snow-paths glimmerijig through 

 A jewelled elm-tree avenue; 



Where, keen against the walls of sapphire, 

 The gleaming tree-bolls, ice-embossed, 

 Ilold up their chandeliers of frost. 



I tread in Orient halls enchanted, 

 I dream the traga's dream of caves 

 Gem-lit beneath the North Sea waves 1 



I walk the land of Eldorado, 

 I touch its mimic garden bowers. 

 Its silver leaves and diamond flowers I 



The flora of the mystic wine-world 

 Around me lifts on crystal stems 

 The petals of its clustered gems I 



What miracle of wierd transforming 

 In this wild work of frost and light, 

 This glimpse of glory infinite I 



This fore gleam of the Iloly City, 

 Like that to liim of I'atraos given, 

 The white bride coming down from heaven I 



How flash the ranked and mail-clai'. alders. 

 Through what sharp-glancing spears of reeds 

 The brook its mullled water leads I 



Yon maple, like the bush of Horeb, 

 Burns unconsumed ; a white, cold fire 

 Kays out from every grassy spire. 



Each slender rush and spike of mullein. 

 Low land shrub and drooping f«rn, 

 Transfigured, blaze where'er 1 turn. 



How yonder Ethiopian hemlock 

 Crowned with his glistening circlet stands I 

 What jewels light his swartJiy hands I 



Here, where the forest opens southward. 

 Between its hospitable pines. 

 As through a door, the warm sun shines. 



The jewels loosen on the branches. 

 And lightly as the soft winds blow, 

 Fail, tinkling, on the ice below. 



And through the dashing of their cymbals, 

 1 hear the old familiar fall 

 Of water down a rocky wall. 



Where from its wintry prison breaking. 

 In dark and silence hidden long. 

 The brook repeats his bummer song. 



One instant flashing in the sunshine. 

 Keen as a sabre from its sheath. 

 Then lost again the ice beneath. 



I hear the rabbit lightly leaping, 

 The foolish screaming of the jay. 

 The chopper's axe-stroke far away ; 



The clamor of some ncigliboring barn-ynrd. 

 The lazy cock's belated crow. 

 Or cattle-tramp in crispy snow. 



And as in some enchanted forest 

 The lost knight hears his comrades sing, 

 And near at hand, their bridles ring. 



Bo welcome I these sounds and voices. 

 These ulrs from f.ir-olF Summer bfown — 

 Tliis life that leaves me not alone. 



For the white glory overawes me ; 

 The crystal terror of the seer • 

 Of Chebar's vision blinds mo 



Rebuke me not, O sapphire heaven I 

 Thou stainless earth lay not on me 

 This keen reproach of purity 1 



Let the strange frost-work sink and crumble. 

 And let the loosened tree boughs swing. 

 Till all their bells of silver ring. 



Shine warmly down, thou sun of noontide. 

 On this chill pageant, melt and move, 

 The Winter's frozen heart with love. 



And soft and low, thou wind south-blowing. 

 Breathe through a veil of tcnderest haze 

 The prophecy of Simimer days. 



Come with the green relief of promise, 

 And to this dead, cold splendor bring 

 The living jewels of the Spring I 



FARMEBS' CLUBS. 

 The long evenings an; now at haiul, and 

 the farmer, finding a little leisure after the 

 labors of the day, looks about him for some 

 means of pleasure and amusement wherewith 

 to occupy the time. lie will find no more 

 profitable way to spend an occasional evening 

 than in the meetings of a wide-awake Farmers' 

 Club. Better by far is it than to doze the 

 time away, smoking a pipe in the chimney 

 corner, or lounging at the country store. The 

 book and the paper tire after a Avliile ; these 

 organizations come in to occupy a portion of 

 time in just such a way as the hard-working 

 farmer needs. Here he can in a measure ob- 

 tain that 



Mental Culture 



Which is so much neglected by those who 

 labor day after day upon tiieir farms. It is 

 very natural for them to slide into almost en- 

 tire neglect of any intellectual ellbrt, and un- 

 less they have something of a character in 

 which they are particularly interested, and 

 which pei-tains to the business in which they 

 are daily engaged, any effort in that direc- 

 tion soon becomes laborious, and finally is 

 discontinued altogether. All the time, they 

 are inclined too much to physical exercise, 

 while they neglect the e.xercise of the mind. 

 Even at many of our County Fairs, the annual 

 address, which once afforded a little mental 

 stimulus, has been discontinued, and the time 

 is occupied in a manner which docs not, to 

 say the least, draw out any mental ellort. 



Again, much of the farmer's time is spent 

 alone, or in company with liircd help not in 

 any way remarkable for their intelligence, and 

 the mind riuis along in the old grooves with 

 but little to excite it to activity. It becomes 

 sluggish. I\Iind needs contact with mind to 

 rub it into activity. The more we associate 

 with other individuals, the more the mind is 

 aroused ; we think, we study. These Far- 

 mers' Clubs then, are just what is needed to 

 draw the farmers together, and to give them 

 an op])ortuuIty to bring tiieir luiiuis in contact. 

 The exercises ure such as pertain to their 



