•254 
And my feats are ever so silently done 
They’re all unguessed, till the morning sun 
Ruddy and round, ’mid vapours tost 
Looks on a kingdom of white hoar-frost. 
These are my sports—and oft I fling 
A glassy floor from rim to rim 
Of the lake that shines i’ the valley low; 
And then—how merrily, swiftly go 
The skaiters along! —They dart—they skim — 
Or circle in many a mazy ring; 
Oh! these are the sports of the cold Ice-king. 
And what hast thou to show. 
In thy russet bower and leavy pall. 
Can match with my boundless and glittering Hall ? 
Queen of the sober shroud. 
Haste thee away—begone — 
For the Ice-king hunyeth on: 
He travels along on a swift black cloud; 
The strong winds his coursers ai’e; 
He travels along—and their roar so loud 
Before him rolls afar— 
He comes — and the leafless woods bend down 
Before the King of the Icy crown. 
He comes in terror, and wrath, and dread; 
Around him the stonu and the blast outspread 
Their awful wings—and the darken d sky 
Frowns on the earth most gloomily 
