Classic Poem

SHADOWY white,
Over the fields are the sleeping fences,
Silent and still in the fading light,
As the wintry night commences.

The forest lies
On the edge of the heavens, bearded and brown;
He pulls still closer his cloak, and sighs,
As the evening winds come down.

The snows are wound
As a winding sheet on the river's breast,
And the shivering blast goes wailing round,
As a spirit that cannot rest.

Calm sleeping night!
Whose jewelled couch reflects the million stars
That murmur silent music in their flight—
O, naught thy fair sleep mars.

And all a dream—
Thy spangled forest in its frosty sleep,
Thy pallid moon that sheds its misty beam
O'er waters dead and deep.