R. H. Stoddard 
Tj'ALL ! thickly fall! thou Winter snow ; 
And keenly blow, thou Winter wind ! 
Only the barren North is yours; 
The South delights a Summer mind ; 
So fall and blow, 
Both wind and snow, 
My fancy to the South does go I 
Half-way between the frozen zones, 
Where Winter reigns in sullen mirth, 
The Summer binds a golden belt 
About the middle of the Earth. 
The sky is soft, and blue, and bright, 
With purple dyes at morn and night; 
And bright and blue the seas that lio 
In perfect rest, and glass the sky; 
And sunny bays with inland curves 
Round all along the quiet shore; 
